Rising Smoke
by Crimson Peaches
Summary: The Wizarding World believes Harry Potter murdered by the notorious Sirius Black. In reality he has been raised by his godfather who has sent him to Durmstrang Institute away from Dumbledore's influence. However, his friendship with Draco Malfoy leads to Harry questioning his godfather's morals, delving into the Dark Arts, and what needs to be done For the Greater Good.
1. Chapter 1

**November 2****nd****, 1981, Little Whinging**

The big, black dog panted as he approached privet drive – he had been racing the Aurors and the Order to this perfectly normal house that was shrouded by the dark, cloudy night. Nobody would see a thing – at least, not if he was quick. The dog sprang forward, its bones and muscle pulled themselves apart and reformed in a flash to form a young, handsome man with bags under his eyes and a scowl plastered across his face. Sirius advanced upon the door, drew his wand and blew the door off of its hinges to instantaneous reaction – screaming and the sound of a door being slammed open upstairs with heavy footsteps racing across the lander. Sirius tried to be patient but was left tapping his foot in his anxiety as he waited, at least he was until the very large man descended the stairs and swung a big meaty fist at him.

Sirius raised his wand to the large, many chinned man whose jowels quivered with silent rage – and watched as he fell back, his back smacking into the bannister which creaked loudly.

"Where is Harry?" Sirius asked with a tilt of his head, examining the man who was starting to turn dangerously red. It wasn't the man who answered, however, but a shrill female voice Sirius recognized immediately as the voice of Lily's sister.

He cringed, a flash of pain throbbing in his chest – brimming under the surface.

"He's in the dining room. In his crib. But you can't take him," Petunia said with an air of haughty defiance despite the sweat beading upon her brow.

Sirius arched a brow towards Petunia, silently stupefying her husband who collapsed with a loud thud. Petunia stumbled backwards against the wall at the top of the stairs, her eyes widened in fear.

"Why not?" he asked simply, abandoning all pretence of patience.

"What did you do to him you _freak_?!"

"I knocked him out, now _answer my question_!" Sirius roared, sparks flying from his wand as he stepped forward.

"B-because, Dumbledore gave him to us. He's pr-"Petunia was cut short by Sirius' loud, mocking laugh, his eyes narrowing soon after as his voice dropped an octave.

"Surely you jest! Protected! Here! No. I'm taking him. You can _try_ and stop me." Sirius stepped over Vernon's unconscious form towards the dining room wherein there was a crib pushed to the side just so that it was out of the way. He looked down at the one year old child – noticing Lily's eyes staring back at him as a painful reminder. He smiled at his godson, and scooped him up into his arms.

"Let's go home."

**July 31****st****, 1989, 12 Grimmauld Place**

Harry woke up with a start on his eighth birthday, grinning from ear to ear before leaping out of his large, king sized bed and pelting down the stairs of 12 Grimmauld Place.

"Sirius! Sirius!" he yelled exuberantly, not even noticing Kreacher's frowns and mutterings for a change. His godfather was nowhere to be seen however, Harry's yells met only with silence that caused the young, scruffy boy to stop and look around with his piercing green eyes.

"Sirius?" he whispered tentatively, advancing forwards quietly down the hallway of the Black estate. He paid special attention to curtains, trying to find a silhouette. It took him a while, but eventually he found one – perfectly still.

"Hah! As if that'd get me again, come out." Harry called triumphantly, staring at the silhouette with his hands on his hips. His godfather didn't hesitate in making use of Harry's distraction to creep out behind him and send off a loud bang from his wand right next to Harry's ear. Harry's reaction was instant – he let out a gigantic scream, before running off shouting. As Harry slammed a door to escape, Sirius collapsed into a fit of laughter, his eyes twinkling whilst he slapped his knees which elicited a scowl from Harry as he opened the door cautiously, his eyes locked upon his godfather like he was a lion ready to pounce.

"That wasn't funny," he said, flushing furiously. "You should be nicer to me on my birthday."

Sirius gave Harry another long look, before starting to cackle again, his godson cracking a smile eventually and running over to hug him.

"Happy birthday, Harry."

"Thanks, Sirius," Harry replied as his hair was ruffled, pressing his face into Sirius' robe whose hand now guided him towards the kitchen as he walked, where there was a small pile of presents lying in wait.

"Well, are we going to eat breakfast – and there'd better be bacon - first or-"Harry burst forward as Sirius spoke, his hands a blur as he tore apart the black and gold paper to reveal the contents of the first easily discerned present. Flipping the book around to read the title, a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. "Thank you," he said to Sirius as he opened onto the first page of The Standard Book of Spells Grade 1. His godfather beamed at him, evidently pleased with himself. "I feel bad knowing that all you can do is sit in a library and read tomes older than me, so I got you something new." Sirius let out a quiet laugh at the thought of James and Lily's reactions to effectively raising their child in a library. He was sure James was rolling over in his grave – though, James's child appeared to share Lily's delight in learning as he tore into book after book, stacking them up next to him. However, when all of the books had been opened one still remained – eliciting a more curious approach from Harry who turned over the present in his hands before slowly peeling away its wrappings.

"Turn it around," Sirius urged and Harry obeyed, his eyes widening slightly as he blinked, speechless as he looked into the eyes of his parents before looking at Sirius hoping for an explanation.

"I stole it away from an old order member who struggled to believe that I would betray your parents to You-Know-Who." Sirius's godson's only reaction was to nod simply, sit down and stare at the parents he had never known.

After a large breakfast with copious amounts of bacon, and a few hours spent in the library, Harry gathered up the courage to go ask Sirius for one final present, as he asked every year. He stumbled into the kitchen blearily, looking at his godfather who was drinking a bottle of fire whiskey as he read the Daily Prophet – how he always got a copy was beyond Harry.

"Sirius?" Harry asked meekly, his godfather turning his head to smile at him while taking a sip from his drink.

"Can I ask for a favour?" he asked whilst attempting to make himself look both pitiful and adorable at the same time, widening his eyes and making his bottom lip quiver. His godfather just rolled his eyes at the attempt before sighing and putting down the newspaper as he began to speak.

"Harry. There's a very good reason why I can't let you go outside – I've told you twice already, if you are seen outside, they will take you away. They will find me, and I'll be given the kiss. I hate us being holed up here just as much as you."

Harry looked at his godfather with tears brimming in his eyes. Sirius frowned, clenching his right hand around his drink as he fought back the urge to just give in.

"It doesn't matter though! I'm going to Hogwarts in three years! They'll know then anyway." The shout made Sirius flinch slightly and look away as he ran a hand through his long black hair.

"Harry. You're not going to Hogwarts," his godfather started before being interrupted by a loud surprised outcry, "You need to go to Durmstrang."

His godson looked up at him wordlessly – Harry had read about Durmstrang, and he knew that nobody knew where it was, but they all had to speak German – though they did practice the Dark Arts.

"But… why?" he asked, confusion and hurt creeping into his tone. Sirius looked at him with something akin to sympathy and sighed.

"For the same reason you can't go outside. Maybe if I can get my name cleared, we can send you to Hogwarts but, I doubt that'll happen while you're still at school."

Harry looked up at Sirius, shaking slightly as he tried his best to fight back the rising tears, before speaking shakily, "Why did you tell me about all the things you and my dad did then, if you knew I couldn't do that too?"

Sirius grimaced, and shook his head, "I didn't think, Harry. I'm sorry." When Harry went to turn and storm out of the room, his godfather called out, making him stop in his tracks.

"You can't be called Harry Potter outside of here either. You'll have to become a Black."

Harry turned, with wide eyes to stare at his godfather, speechless again, before just closing the door and running away. Sirius let out a sigh of relief – he'd expected much more angst and magical accidents at the news. At least now he could continue trying to figure out a solution to hiding Harry's scar that didn't involve copious amounts of potions – something that could be cast once and wouldn't be easily broken.

It was times like this that he wished he still had Remus around.

**July 31****st****, Hogwarts, Noon**

Dumbledore frowned as he peered through his half-moon glasses out of the windows and over the grounds. It was Harry's birthday, and in seven years he still hadn't been found and the Aurors were just as clueless as usual. It had caused a huge stir when they had made the proclamation that Sirius Black had broken in and taken him as a child, and now everyone believed he had been murdered by Lord Voldemort's most loyal follower.

Of course, Dumbledore thought that was all nonsense. Or at least, he hoped so. If Harry was indeed dead, no one would be there to defeat Lord Voldemort when he returned. Despite his power, Dumbledore knew he was simply too old and slow to defeat a renewed Voldemort in a display of skill.

"Severus, what should we do if we can't find him?" he spoke quietly, exhaustion weighing heavily upon his words.

"I always thought that was your job – to think of how to proceed." Snape rolled his eyes, glancing distastefully towards Remus who spoke next, ignoring his old school rival.

"We will find him. Sirius will send him to Hogwarts, or Beauxbatons – I'm certain of it. Just a matter of keeping tabs on the first years that come through there when he turns eleven."

Snape sneered slightly as he retaliated Lupin's point.

"You think he won't send him somewhere further away, like Durmstrang?"

"Sirius hates the Dark Arts, and his mother wanted to send him th-"

"Please! He betrayed the Potters and you still act like you know what he's like!" laughed Snape.

Remus stared at Snape before sighing. "You're right, Severus." Remus sat down as his shoulders drooped. Snape stayed silent – a sneer plastered on his face, and looked back towards Dumbledore. "Headmaster?" he asked, quietly.

"I agree, Severus. We can't predict what he will do, as we don't understand him. Where before we might have thought him reckless – well, it's easy enough to put on an act."

As Severus and Remus went to leave, Dumbledore stood by his window in silent thought before speaking aloud to himself as he planned aloud.

"If Harry is not dead, he will be at a school, which is the problem – I doubt Sirius would send him anywhere too vague, but also he wouldn't send him somewhere we would expect him. I need a way to bring the schools to Hogwarts – a way for them to bring their best and brightest." Dumbledore paused as he considered. "If Harry takes after his father or mother, or even Tom, then he will be part of that." He moved over to his books as Dippet spoke up.

"You're aware, Albus, of how long it will take to have the Triwizard Tournament return? The ministry is awfully slow about such matters. A few years at least."

"I understand, Armando. But, I'm afraid we're running out of options."

Phineas snorted from where he was pretending to slumber in his portrait. "Or you could just admit he's probably dead. Orion's son isn't in our ancestral home at least, so who's to say he's even in Europe?"

Albus quietly sighed, "You miss the point, Phineas. This is a test of if he is alive, and why would he be kidnapped and taken away from Europe? It'd be much harder to restore Tom to full power away from his servants."

"And if you're wrong, and he isn't the best, or brightest?" Phineas asked sharply.

"Then my ploy will have failed." Albus responded to the old Black headmaster's mirth.

"You're playing a dangerous game of Russian roulette here, Albus. Gambling the future of the wizarding world on a chance."

Albus' eyes twinkled as he looked at Phineas, "Russian roulette? Seems you've been learning a bit about the muggles from me after all." To Albus' bemusement Phineas just snorted and turned away from him.

Dumbledore conjured a goblet with a wave of his wand and summoned his oak-matured mead, a gift from Slughorn, before raising a toast.

"Happy Birthday, Harry, wherever you may be."

**Chapter One**

**July 31****st****, 12 Grimmauld Place, 1991**

Harry stretched out in his bed as he awoke, rolling over slightly as he saw through the window that the sun was just starting to rise.

"You know a kid's growing up when he's deciding to sleep in rather than wake up the whole house on his birthday."

Harry jumped, flailing for a second as he yelped in fright before turning to glare at Sirius.

"Oi! It's not even seven yet! Give us an hour…"

Sirius snorted, flicking his wand and sending the covers flying from Harry's nearly naked form who let out another shout and leaped out of the bed shivering.

"Well, you won't have time to sleep in. Got to have breakfast first, then we're off out." Sirius grinned at Harry's pause.

"You'd best not be joking… it isn't funny." He said, scowling before spotting the serious expression upon his godfather's face. "… You're actually serious," he said before sprinting past Sirius to the kitchen where there were some croissants already waiting in front of him. A moment later and Sirius strode in – a single croissant left on the table.

"Um. Harry. Those weren't for you," Sirius idly nodded to a plate of eggs, bacon and toast which Harry moved his gaze over to slowly, before looking back at the croissants.

"Oh well. Guess I get to have the bacon," Sirius said boisterously before sitting down and tucking in much to Harry's silent outrage.

After Sirius had eaten breakfast at a very leisurely speed, Harry returned fully dressed in a black and gold overcoat, his long, wild hair flowing over the collar.

"Are we ready now?" he asked Sirius who shook his head as he wiped his mouth with a sleeve.

"Not quite, you need to drink something first," Sirius replied, pulling a small vial from his pocket to Harry's confusion.

"What is it?"

"Nothing nasty, trust me. Just drink it down and we'll be off," he said as he threw the vial to Harry who caught it deftly. As he uncorked it, he inhaled – it smelt odd, like burning coffee. He frowned, glancing at Sirius who just nodded, tapping his fingers onto the table in anticipation.

He brought the vial to his lips and drank, before a convulsion passed through him and an intense stinging started in his scar, as if it had been set alight. He let out a whine of pain, gritting his teeth – and then the sensation had passed. Gingerly, he reached a hand towards his head, tracing his scar with a lone finger – and felt nothing but smooth skin. He looked to Sirius with eyes that begged for an explanation.

"Your scar is iconic – anyone who sees it will know you are Harry Potter. Now, even if you look a bit… a lot more like James, I can pass you off as my son. You'll be a part of 'The Most Noble and Ancient House of Black'. I was thinking of names – what about Cepheus?"

Harry stared at him uncomprehendingly, not speaking.

"… Not Cepheus then? Fine, we'll go with Corvus."

Harry still didn't speak.

"Harry. It has to be named after a constellation – I know, it's silly, but think of all the stupid puns you can pull relating to stars."

Finally Harry spoke in a splutter, "I'm going to be your son?"

Sirius blinked, then nodded.

"But you said not to call you dad, because you said James is my dad," Harry said with furrowed brows, running a hand through his long, messy hair.

"Harry – it just feels wrong. I'm your godfather, but James was your dad who died for you. It'd be like stealing that right from him." Harry frowned, before retorting.

"But you raised me. You _are_ my dad." Sirius stayed silent for a moment before speaking.

"Well, I guess this way you get what you want anyway. Going outside, calling me dad. What's bloody next, your own broom?" Harry stared at him for a minute, fighting the urge to smile.

"… Alright, you're getting your own broom too." Sirius grinned as his pseudo-son ran to him and embraced him.

As they stepped out of the door, Harry inhaled deeply, looking at the spectacle of everyday life around him in wonder, a pigeon flying over the street lit by the dawn that created shafts of sunlight between the houses, the sun looming overhead. The noise of people walking and talking filled his ears, and the faint smell of gasoline and tar that made him gag slightly before suddenly a car spurred past him making him jump as Sirius snickered.

"Where are we going?" he asked, looking up.

"We're going to Diagon Alley, Corvus," Sirius replied to Harry's confusion before he realized.

"Oh. Right. Corvus Black."

Sirius snorted and muttered something about a horrible idea before setting off down the street, Harry in tow who was looking around as he took in the sights of London – muggles walking past them carrying groceries and nodding their head to faint tunes coming from unwieldy boxes with spinning reels in them.

"There's so much going on," Harry remarked to Sirius as they walked, his head whirling from trying to keep track of everything going on around him in a desperate attempt to take in everything he can.

"It's a bit startling the first time around, Corvus, but you wait until we get to Diagon Alley."

"We're going there? But what if someone spots you?"

Sirius muttered something about kids not listening before explaining, "Well, let's be honest – most people don't know what I look like, and the last pictures of me are ten years old. We are staying away from the Leaky Cauldron though – easier to walk unnoticed in a busy street than a pub."

Harry nodded – this made sense, he supposed.

"The muggles are weird, look – they're so oblivious."

Sirius frowned, glancing at the boy he raised before shrugging – he wasn't wrong. "I suppose. Not their fault though."

"Well, whose is it then?" Harry peered up at Sirius inquisitively who sighed.

"H- Corvus, it isn't exactly anyone's fault. We had to hide from them for our safety at the time."

Harry pondered on this for a moment, before piping up loudly again.

"So it _is_ their fault. Why should we hide from them? They're the ones without magic."

"Harry! It isn't the muggles fault, and we're not better than them just because we have magic. That line of thought is close to the Death Eaters."

Sirius fumed quietly – Harry silent for fear of angering him further before eventually Sirius let out a long breath.

"I'm sorry, Corvus," he said, making note to use his son's name this time, "It's just - you can't understand just yet, after all, you've never spent any time with muggles." Harry remained quiet and simply nodded – trusting his godfather.

It wasn't long until Sirius had smuggled them through a lesser known passageway into Knockturn Alley, where Harry made certain to stay a few steps closer to Sirius – the buildings grungy, and the light dim. It made him feel on edge, as did the wizards and witches dressed in dark robes who watched him and Sirius as they passed, occasionally approaching before Sirius cast them a piercing look.

"Si- dad, how much further until we get to Diagon Alley?" Harry asked, a couple of people emerging from a shop glancing over at them suspiciously.

"Not long, tru- oh, well, this is bloody brilliant." Sirius remarked as a tall, elegant blonde witch emerged from a shop full of strange objects only to briefly glance over at Sirius in shock.

"Who'd have thought to find you wandering about?" the witch said loftily before glancing at Harry who was looking between the two in confusion, "And well, I thought you reckless but… honestly?"

"Narcissa, this is an unexpected… pleasure," Sirius said through gritted teeth before ruffling Harry's hair. "I see you've found my son – I'm glad you can see him past that beak of yours."

Narcissa turned and glared at Sirius momentarily before approaching Harry who stiffened.

"And what would be your name, then?" Harry opened his mouth to respond with "Harry" before pausing and replying confidently as if he'd won a duel.

"My name is Corvus Black." Narcissa smiled thinly at him, before going to quickly brush aside his black fringe before drawing herself back to her full height.

"I see. May I ask -which- woman it was that gave you your son, Sirius?" she said, a number of eyes having been drawn before by the name Black – now a fair portion staring at Sirius.

"Honestly, I can't remember her name. A French woman – pureblood, before you start on that, Cissy." Harry didn't miss Narcissa's flinch to the use of her presumed name, or Sirius' smirk at her reaction.

"Well, at least you aren't sullying yourself with muggles anymore – honestly, I never understood their appeal to you." She replied cuttingly.

"Well, frankly my dear cousin, I never understood your taste for slimy snakes like Malfoy either, but you never saw me questioning that." He replied rudely, before Harry elbowed him.

"Dad, c'mon, that's a bit rude." He said while Narcissa smirked like she'd seized a quaffle in quidditch.

"Well, at least we can be glad your son didn't inherit _your_ courtesy. I imagine you'll be looking forward to Hogwarts, Corvus?" she asked, arching an eyebrow curiously only for Sirius to respond.

"Hogwarts, as if. I know you think me reckless-"

"I _know_ you're reckless, Sirius."

"- but I'm not insane like a lot of your friends."

Narcissa sighed and rolled her eyes.

"Well. Be careful Sirius. And I hope to see you again, Corvus – good day." After her parting words, Narcissa turned around and left, her black robes trailing behind her.

"I hate that bloody woman," Sirius muttered to Harry, as they started to walk through the gathered crowd who parted for them with seemingly more alarm than before.

"She called you Sirius – isn't that dangerous?"

Sirius only shrugged. "This is Knockturn Alley, I imagine most of them would want to shake my hand knowing who I am. It's in Diagon Alley we'll have to be more careful."

Harry nodded, continuing down the dark, twisting path.

After another quiet minute, Harry spotted the light at the end of the alley, sprinting past Sirius into the open street of Diagon Alley – bustling with shopping witches and wizards and full of golden sun light. Harry stopped in his tracks for the second time in the day – and simply stared around him. On all sides were shop windows filled with flamboyant displays of sweets, jewellery, books and toys. Sirius caught up quickly with a smirk, resting his hand on Harry's shoulder who didn't even appear to notice.

"Come on, I know where we're going first. Keep your head down and just keep following me."

Harry nodded, his long black hair falling over his face as they proceeded down the sunny street, listening into errant conversations about the upcoming Holyhead Harpies game against the Chudley Cannons, stories of evading muggle aircraft on brooms, and spells gone wrong.

However, it was cut short when Sirius suddenly guided him inside a narrow, shabby shop to the side of the road.

Immediately, he noticed how small the shop was – but also its height with thousands of wooden boxes aligned neatly on shelves rising to the ceiling that seemed like it could have never fit inside the small shop. With a single chair in the corner of the room, the shop appeared unoccupied but for the two Black wizards.

Harry's assumption was wrong – he jumped about half a foot into the air when an old man appeared behind them.

"Good evening, Mr Black, Mr Potter. Are we ready to begin?" Sirius nodded to the man who flicked his wand, causing shutters to descend down the windows and the door to click locked.

"You know, at first I was curious when Mr Black walked into my shop with a request for a private session – something I normally would never grant, but when he said you, Mr Potter, were coming, I had to accept."

Harry blinked, "Why?"

Ollivander smiled in a somewhat disturbing fashion. "Why, because everyone thinks Mr Black here murdered you as an infant."

Harry, doing his best not to show how disturbed he was, shrugged, "He didn't."

"As I can see. I'm glad – I have the feeling you will prove to be quite the interesting wizard. I know your parents became talented young people – as did young Mr Black here."

"You knew my parents?" Harry interrupted, staring at Ollivander with wide eyes, who nodded as Sirius went to sit down.

"Of course, I remember every wand I've sold, Mr Potter."

Harry ran a hand through his head, looking around curiously before Sirius spoke.

"We're here to get your wand, Harry, focus."

Ollivander's smile never left his lips as Harry's eyes widened in excitement.

"When do I get it then?" he asked with a grin, causing Ollivander to throw a tape measure at him – however, as Harry reached up to catch it, it flew away from his grip and started to measure him independently much to Harry's surprise.

"So, Mr Potter – what will we be looking for? I wonder what will suit you, hm?" Ollivander's meanderings were little more than a mutter as he wandered amongst the shelves – scouting amongst them before pulling out a few boxes – one number in particular standing out to Harry.

"Nine hundred and sixty-three? How many wands do you have, Mr…?"

"Ollivander, and many and more, Mr Potter. A wand for every wizard or witch. See, the trick is that the wand chooses the wizard," Ollivander murmured as he carefully picked up the first box – pulling a long ashen wand from it.

"Ash, Unicorn Hair, twelve inches long. Go on, Mr Potter – give it a wave."

And so Harry did, tentatively, give the wand a wave – and sent the newspaper his godfather had pulled out set alight much to their surprise.

"Bloody hell!" Sirius yelled as he pulled out his wand and countered the flames quickly while Ollivander carefully plucked the wand from Harry's grip.

"No matter, no matter – there are plenty more to try. Try this one – Ebony, Dragon Heartstring, thirteen inches long."

Harry flicked the wand upwards and sent a cascade of paper into the air to flutter down around him like snowflakes in a storm.

"Not… quite, but we're getting there." Ollivander glanced towards the last box – 963.

"Curious, but… perhaps to be expected. Here, Mr Potter, try this. Holly, Phoenix Feather, eleven inches long."

Harry peered at the wand a long while before taking, making certain to make no sudden movements with the wand.

"Go on, Mr Potter – we're eagerly waiting to see what happens," Ollivander said with a tinge of anticipation - Sirius, in comparison, seemed bored.

He gave it a swish – only for it to elicit a painful burning sensation in his fingers causing him to fling it across the room only to be caught by Sirius who casually handed it back to Ollivander.

"Well, maybe my faith was misplaced in that last one. Never mind, shall we try again?"

Harry nodded, a frown slowly forming upon his face – maybe he was a squib, and no wand would choose him? Ollivander seemed to sense his doubt, however.

"There is nothing to worry about, Mr Potter. Many great wizards took a long time to find their perfect wand. Including the one who you defeated ten years ago." Ollivander smiled slightly, while Sirius snapped out, twitching, "Great? He was a murderer."

"A murderer indeed, Mr Black, and whilst his deeds were terrible – we cannot ignore their greatness either." Ollivander seemed to muse on this for a moment, almost, before nodding as if given an idea and moving to the shelf on the left most corner of the room and pulling out a box.

"Here, Mr Potter. I think this one shall suit you admirably."

Harry took the long, pale wand from the box and shivered as a tingle passed through his arm though it was most certainly not unpleasant.

"Aspen, Dragon Heartstring, and twelve inches. Now, go on, try it," Ollivander urged Harry, his hands fidgeting with each other.

Overtaken by a sudden, bold urge, Harry pointed the wand at his godfather's newspaper and intoned loudly "Wingardium Leviosa!" with a swish and flick causing the newspaper to tug upwards from Sirius's grip. Ollivander blinked in surprise, and smiled faintly.

"Well done Mr Potter – it seems you have quite the intuitive grasp on magic. I'll expect great things from you."

"He also seems to have a particular aversion to the Daily Prophet," Sirius muttered bleakly while his godson grinned cheekily.

"Well, it was certainly a delight to meet you, but I imagine you'd best be off – the less time you are exposed in public, the better," Ollivander said as he took a pouch of coins from Sirius.

"Seven galleons, plus a bit extra for the private meeting. Thank you." They nodded to each other, before Sirius guided Harry outside again through the now unlocked door.

"So, that was interesting," Sirius remarked before Harry elbowed him.

"Oi! What was that for?"

"You being such a sarcastic ass is what that was for." Sirius just grinned before shushing Harry as they stepped off the steps to Ollivander's and back onto the street, travelling down towards a large building with tall, white pillars.

"Gringotts. We're going to get some money out for you and although we'll be ordering a lot of your books I'll let you choose a few of your own with the money I give you."

Harry nodded – it made sense to him, and soon after they emerged into the grand hall where it was deadly silent but for the quiet murmurings of business conducted by the goblins behind their tall wood podiums. They quietly made their way towards the front where a goblin was scrawling onto a piece of parchment.

Sirius coughed, but the goblin did not look up to speak.

"Name."

Sirius lowered his voice, and leaned in to whisper to the goblin who merely nodded, stepped down and gestured they follow down a small corridor.

"Good evening, Mr Black – we were informed you would be showing up today, and this…?" The goblin's voice lacked curiosity, but retained the flat courtesy of a businessman.

"This would be my son and heir, Corvus Black."

The goblin nodded. "I presume you will be wanting to sign him as your heir to the estate and vault while you are here?" Sirius nodded in confirmation.

"Well then – first we shall visit your vault, then get around to signing the appropriate documents. Shall we?" Sirius inclined his head, and followed the goblin who proceeded down the corridor with - much to Harry's amusement – a very prominent waddle.

Harry and Sirius stumbled out of the cart – wet, dizzy and very much in danger of throwing up.

"If you're about done, shall we carry on?" the goblin asked sternly. Sirius just held up a finger – luckily not his middle which he so commonly raised towards Harry – and quickly checked Harry's forehead, blinking in surprise but nodding. Harry reached up and rubbed his forehead – the scar wasn't there, just as it hadn't been since he drank the potion. He merely gave a shrug at Sirius' odd behaviour and carried on only to pause immediately afterwards at the sight of a large, albino dragon snoozing.

"Uhm. Why's that thing here?" he asked, a tinge of doubt creeping into his voice.

"Security, Master Black. Don't worry – we can control him," the goblin said while he picked up an odd instrument that he was careful not to shake as he walked past the slumbering drake.

They passed a few vaults – the goblin having noted proudly that these were all "The wealthiest and most influential families in Britain," before they reached the Black vault.

"So, as you can see, Mr Black – your fortune still remains vast, would you care for a comparison to the other estates?" The goblin's tone was still formal, but underneath there seemed a passion.

"I've never been offered that before, but never cared mu-"Sirius began, before being interrupted by a curious Harry, "That sounds great – go on." The goblin looked delighted, nodding, either ignoring or unaware of Sirius glaring at Harry and him.

"Well, you remain the third wealthiest family in Britain – behind the houses of Lestrange and Malfoy. Though, I must confess – at this point, it's rather difficult to catch up to the Malfoys. Their wealth grows exponentially with each year – their head of house is a genius in that respect. Anyway, the house of Black is still ahead of the Greengrass family by a fair margin, though due to your family's… stagnation, that gap will likely not remain as such for long-"

Sirius yawned loudly, interrupting the goblin, "Are we done yet?"

The goblin paused, as if collecting himself after what seemed to be a moment of annoyance and nodding, "Of course, Mr Black."

"Thank you, that was interesting," Harry said to the goblin who inclined his head.

"It was my pleasure, now – shall we head inside?" the goblin asked before opening the door with a wave of his hand.

And as Harry walked inside, he saw the mountains of gold – various ornaments and pieces of armour, weapons and paintings. The whole gigantic chamber gleamed with the gold that covered nearly every part of the onyx surface.

"How much were you wanting to extract, exactly, Mr Black?" the goblin asked politely.

"Well, Durmstrang is a school for pure blood and half-bloods – and it's unlikely they're poor if they're at Durmstrang, so… a hundred galleons a month?"

Harry blinked, before asking tentatively:

"What's the exchange rate for galleons to pounds?"

"Well, Master Black, based on the current value of the pound, a galleon is worth fifteen pounds. Why?" Harry just shook his head – a curious expression upon his face.

"Just wondered." Sirius let out a snigger for some reason and the goblin sighed and spoke simply.

"Very well, we shall send Master Black here his money every month. This way, it won't pass through you. This service will cost you ten galleons each time. Is this agreed?" Sirius nodded, and shook hands with the goblin who gestured for them to follow – the vault door closing behind them silently.

"We'll require you to sign this parchment, then we'll sign the legal forms for Master Black to become your heir."

It didn't take long – Harry ended up waiting behind, watching the snoozing dragon for a few minutes before they appeared behind him.

"Ready to go, Corvus?" Harry nodded towards his godfather, and they set off – back through the tracks and to the main hall.

After a long, sickening ride on the tram back to the bank, they stepped off – the goblin bowing to them and thanking them for visiting. When left alone, Sirius paused for a moment in thought, before speaking.

"Huh. I'm glad that's over. Now – Corvus, if you want you can linger in Diagon Alley another hour or so, and then I'll pick you up from outside Borgin and Burkes in Knockturn Alley if you want, or we can head home now. Up to you."

Harry opened his mouth in surprise – Sirius had never given him this much freedom, and the idea of being on his own seemed… scary?

"I'll stay here for an hour."

Sirius nodded, ruffling his son's hair, without making a single facet of difference to it in the end.

"Alright – be careful. Don't be stupid."

They hugged briefly, and Sirius gave him a large pouch of coins before leaving. Harry stayed inside a moment longer, hesitant.

It was noon when Harry emerged from the bank – the sun hovering overhead, leaving the streets even brighter than before.

"Guess I spent a little longer in there than I thought," Harry muttered quietly before setting off down the street, glancing at the shops that he passed by – and much to his surprise, nobody gave him a second glance. The way his godfather had acted had made him believe that even the sight of him would ruin the charade.

He supposed no one was perfect.

He glanced to the side, at Flourish and Blotts – a new book floating around in the window in an attempt to draw people in. He gave a shrug and headed inside – why not find some new reading material? He'd already devoured the first three editions of the standard book of spells – and although the Black Library was extensive, his godfather constantly tried to prevent him from reading books on the dark arts which limited his choice substantially.

"Um, sir, how much is this book?" asked a young girl with bushy hair, and slightly larger than normal front teeth. The tired man leaned over, peering at the book before smiling.

"That'd be… thirteen sickles, dear."

The girl blinked, rummaging through her pockets before pulling out thirteen sickles.

"Sickles are the silver ones, right?"

Harry grinned, slightly bemused and answered before the manager could.

"Yeah, they are. Are you muggleborn, then?" Harry asked the slightly frazzled looking girl who looked up and nodded briefly.

"Not that it matters, though, does it?" she said while putting the book into her bag, the manager shaking his head with a slight smile upon his face.

"No, not really – but I've never met a muggleborn before, so I was a bit curious."

"What, so now I'm just something to gawk at, like an animal in a zoo?"

Harry blinked, taken aback by the girl's sharp retort.

"Um, I didn't mean it like that," Harry answered to the young witch who stood with her hands on her hips, "I just meant like, well, it's interesting to meet someone who aint a pureblood?"

The glare slowly went away before she smiled faintly, her cheeks flushing a little.

"I guess. It must get pretty boring only seeing your cousins and family." Harry arched a brow curiously. "Well. All the old pure blood families are related aren't they?" the girl said quickly.

"Yeah. I guess – anyway, what were you buying?"

"Oh. My parents let me buy myself a book – so I decided to get _Hogwarts: A History_ so I can read about it before I get there." The manager slowly shuffled away to the other end of the store.

Harry blinked, before nodding, "Makes sense – I read about Durmstrang once I knew I was going there."

That made her pause, Harry noted, before she spoke out.

"Don't they practice the dark arts at Durmstrang?" Her voice had lost that bossy tone, replaced now with a tinge of uncertainty.

"Yeah. My dad isn't the biggest fan, but… honestly it's kind of fascinating." Harry said swiftly, before blinking – realizing how he sounded.

"But, they're really bad aren't they? That's why we're going to be taught how to defend against them."

"Well, sure, they can be used for something bad. But so can a charm, or transfiguration, right?"

Hermione frowned, before glancing out the window in surprise.

"Well, I guess – I'm sorry, but I have to go. I'm Hermione by the way – Hermione Granger. What was your name again?"

"Oh. I'm Corvus Black." Hermione nodded towards Harry, pausing for a moment before frowning and heading outside towards a couple who clapped her on the back and lead her away.

Shaking his head with a faint smile, Harry went off towards the shelves, starting to examine the multiple titles on display.

It was twenty five minutes later that he walked out of the store with two new books – one on the conjuration of fire, and another on language charms. He looked around immediately after exiting – wondering where next to explore before deciding to just search around a little.

As he explored the streets, wandering in and out of various sweet stores – eventually finding a bag for himself – he wasted the time he had left to him, soon turning into Knockturn Alley where he discovered a strange antiques shop by the name of "Borgin &amp; Burkes".

The shop was gloomy, and had a stale smell to it, as if it hadn't been tended to in years – Harry wrinkled his nose however, and pressed on, closing the door behind him.

Unfortunately, that seemed to draw the attention of a man lurking in the shadows clutching a quill and papers.

"Who's there?" the man called out, peering around a table stacked with antiques – necklaces, strange trophies and ritualistic weaponry.

"Um. I am." The man groaned at Harry's reply.

"Bloody brilliant. Another kid wandering into my shop – bet you're a muggleborn too."

Harry bristled at the insult – snapping back venomously more out of a need to defend his honour than genuine hurt.

"I'm not a muggleborn!"

The oily haired man peered at him curiously, before responding quietly.

"Then answer the question, who are you? I only do business with a select number of people, and I doubt you're related to any of them."

Harry paused, collecting himself before speaking calmly, and with the slightest tone of authority.

"My name is Corvus Black."

The man raised an eyebrow, and for someone so obviously acquainted with the wizarding world Harry was surprised by his lack of reaction.

"Now, there's something I doubt _very_ much."

Harry shrugged – it's not like he cared much if he was believed or not, "Can I look around or not, then?"

The man paused, before answering with a wave of his hand. "Go ahead. Just don't touch anything if you value your life." Harry gave him an uncertain smile before starting to wander around – peering at the necklace he spotted earlier, before moving over to an old scroll. Yet, the man's eyes never left his back until the door opened again to an exasperated Sirius who looked flushed and flicked his left hand towards Harry, quickly flexing his grip as he did so.

"I leave you alone for an hour and you end up in Borgin and Burkes of all places!"

The man's eyes stared at Sirius for a moment before drawing his wand, Sirius glanced over at the man momentarily before sighing.

"Honestly, Borgin, you'd think that you'd treat the head of the house of Black a bit better than that."

Harry blinked – Sirius didn't care if the man knew?

"Can't be certain you won't try and obliviate me. Again."

Sirius let out a groan before speaking "Honestly, if I failed the first time, what makes you think I'd try again?"

"Because you're an idiot?" was Borgin's cutting reply.

"Guilty as charged. Unfortunately, also an idiot who's already holding his wand. So please, lower yours." Sirius raised his hand, and sure enough his wand was in his left hand – and Harry was left wondering how exactly he did that without anyone noticing.

Borgin didn't seem to care as much, however, and rolled his eyes before lowering his wand.

"Never realized you had a son, Sirius. Or that you were so opposed to my shop – you've been visiting here for the last few years almost religiously."

Sirius shrugged, glancing at Harry curiously, before back to Borgin.

"Let's be honest, I'd hardly want my child to be in a shop populated almost solely by former Death Eaters."

Borgin snorted, walking over to Harry, finally taking an interest in what he was examining.

"Bit hypocritical. Either way, seems as if your son has fairly similar tastes in literature to those Death Eaters." Sirius paused slightly, before shrugging.

"Just says a lot about them that they share the same taste as an eleven year old. Anyway – we'd best be off, Corvus still hasn't had dinner, and it's a long walk back." Borgin nodded, placing a firm hand on Harry's shoulder and guiding him away from the scroll back towards Sirius.

"Very well then – have a good journey. And pay a visit soon – Lucius Malfoy recently sold me something I'm certain you'd have an interest in."

Sirius gave a nod to Borgin, and led Harry out of the shop – and out of Knockturn Alley.

"So, you've been using the name Corvus Black to anyone who asks, have you?" Sirius asked casually.

"Well, yeah. Only two people though."

Sirius let out a sigh of relief, visibly relaxing.

"Well, Borgin's one of them, so who's the other?"

"Um. A girl, muggleborn, called Hermione." Sirius arched a brow teasingly at his son, "What?" Harry asked in confusion before Sirius shook his head.

"I can't wait for you to grow a bit older, you'll be so fun to tease." Sirius shrugged before carrying on, "So, this girl – Hermione -, what was her reaction?"

"Honestly, I don't think she knew who you were, so, shouldn't matter much."

Sirius nodded, ruffling Harry's already wild hair, the rest of the walk back being continued in silence.

**28****th**** August, 1991, Portsmouth**

Sirius looked around, wrapping his robe tighter around him, "Merlin's beard, if we have to wait much longer I think I'll turn into an icicle."

Harry snorted – he was already wrapped up in furs, ready for the long journey north. "Why here anyway? Can't muggles see us?"

Sirius shook his head. "The whole place is warded, any muggles looking in will feel very uncomfortable, and see only ruins."

"What – how do they do that?"

Sirius snorted, "Wait until you get to the bloody school, that's why you're going." Harry groaned, looking up at his godfather pleadingly.

"You'd be the worst teacher," Harry said, looking up at Sirius – before jumping in surprise as a loud, clear voice rang out behind them.

"I'd very much concur with that assessment." Harry and Sirius whirled around to face a tall man with long blonde hair flowing down over a dark green robe, a hand on the shoulder of a young boy with similar blonde hair – if much more short and stylish -, a pointed face, and similar aristocratic features.

"Lucius. Is this yours and Cissy's spawn, then?" Sirius said with a gesture towards the young boy whose face contorted in anger at the perceived insult.

"Yes, he is my "spawn" as you put it so indelicately. And his name is Draco. I'd much prefer you use it."

Sirius paused, before nodding.

"I'm surprised to see Cissy isn't here – or a gang of Aurors ready to arrest me."

Lucius rolled his eyes. "Honestly, Sirius – why would I, of all people, try and have you arrested?

"Because, let's be honest, Lucius, we don't exactly get along."

"Yet, calling the Aurors on you wouldn't result in much but a few dead – or knocked out, in your case – men being reported on by the Daily Prophet."

Sirius let out a loud snort, "Lucius, I'm not certain if you believe what the Prophet says about me being some wizard on the level of You-Know-Who, but I certainly can't bring down a group of Aurors on my own."

Lucius sighed before his wife spoke up for him from behind Sirius and Harry, causing them to jump yet again.

"What my husband is trying to get at, is that it wouldn't benefit us. If you were given a trial, we'd be in Azkaban alongside you."

Sirius smirked slightly as Draco glanced up at his parents inquisitively before speaking out loudly.

"… So you're actually Sirius Black? The murderer?"

"Come now, Draco, we mustn't forget our manners. You shouldn't call him a murderer like that," Lucius chided his son.

Draco muttered out something along the lines of "Yes, Father" before Sirius replied with a grin.

"Yeah, I am, and if you annoy me or my son I'll set my house elf on you."

Harry rolled his eyes as Draco snorted back laughter.

"Come now, Sirius, Kreacher was never that bad," Narcissa chimed in only to have Harry cut over her abruptly.

"You're joking, right? He's a nightmare!"

Draco smirked towards Harry, "_Our_ house elf is great, never puts a foot out of line."

Harry beat Lucius' attempt to berate his son, loudly retorting "I bet he's the one that gives you all the wax for your hair."

Sirius grinned as Cissy rolled her eyes while Draco stopped to think of a retort.

"Well, at least I don't look like someone who's never seen a pair of scissors in their life!"

"That's rich, look at your d-"Abruptly, Harry's mouth was covered by Sirius' hand.

"Well, if there was any doubt to that being your son, it's gone now." Narcissa said coolly, glancing out at the waters.

Draco just stood there grinning at Harry, giving him a fake cheerful smile as Harry started glaring at him, trying to shove Sirius away. "I know. I'm so proud."

Lucius sighed, gesturing with a hand towards the sea. "You won't get to be proud of him for much longer. The ship's sailing in at the minute."

Sirius raised an eyebrow at Lucius' odd phrasing before moving his hand from Harry's mouth.

"Well, at least we know there'll be at least one other person who Draco will know." Narcissa said, sounding oddly upbeat at the prospect.

Draco smirked slightly, and Harry rolled his eyes. Sirius just peered at Narcissa oddly for a moment before shrugging.

"Well, best get to saying goodbyes then. Corvus – if you aren't better than Draco at quidditch I'll snap your wand in half," Sirius said seriously enough that Harry was taken aback for a moment before grinning and giving his godfather a hug.

"Draco – take care, and try not to do anything stupid. They're much harsher at Durmstrang than Hogwarts," Narcissa said whilst fussing over the state of Draco's clothes, his father just watching the two with what seemed to be a lack of patience.

"Honestly – Mother, I'll be fine," Draco sighed, before shifting away and picking up his incredibly large trunk with what seemed to be ease – no doubt using a feather light charm, Harry identified before nodding and grabbing his own – turning to see the ship silently coming in to port silently – the ship wasn't as large as Harry had expected, though it was still impressive – looking like a galleon from centuries past.

"Is that it?" Draco asked in a tone of disappointment.

"You never know what's _on_ the boat though," Harry responded with a cheeky grin towards Draco who smirked and started running across the docks at lightning speed – the wooden planks shaking violently underneath him. Harry glanced backwards at a melancholy Lucius, a pleased Sirius, and an anxious Narcissa who he nodded towards before following Draco onto the ship.


	2. Chapter 2

**28****th**** August, 1991, English Coast**

The ship creaked loudly as Harry and Draco stood at the side of the ship, watching Portsmouth shrink behind them – the waves splashing against Harry's face as they crashed against the hull.

"Come on, we should probably get inside," Draco said to Harry after a few moments, the blonde boy's voice carrying a tone that didn't expect rebuttal.

Harry frowned slightly, before nodding.

"Yeah, it's getting cold. Can't be that much room inside, though. I mean, look at it," Harry mentioned as they went to the doors. However, upon opening them, it became readily apparent that the ship was substantially larger than prior thought – they had opened the doors to a long corridor with doors on both sides stretching to a length far beyond what should be possible on the ship.

"Huh," Harry said quietly, smiling slightly. Draco, on the other hand, seemed completely unimpressed with the display of magic – instead opting to stroll down the corridor peering through doors to find an empty room.

"Most of these are filled up already, Corvus," Draco complained before Harry sighed and tapped on the window to a room occupied only by a tall, lithe girl who looked up at the noise in surprise. Harry opened the door a crack and leaned in.

"Hey, would it be alright for us to sit here?" he asked confidently, Draco pausing and watching.

"Sure," she answered with a wave of her hand to the free couch across from her. Harry nodded, opening the door and leading Draco inside who flopped down as if he owned the room.

Giving the door a shove with her foot, causing it to click closed before the girl turned back to face them, moving a lock of fair brown hair away from her vibrant blue eyes.

"What are your names then?" she spoke, a tinge of a foreign accent in her voice – though where exactly it came from was hard to place.

"Draco. Draco _Malfoy_," the blonde boy said proudly, smirking much to Harry's annoyance.

"Oh. The family of Death Eaters?" the girl said cuttingly, causing Draco to be taken aback for a moment before nodding silently, evidently realizing not everyone shares his family's standing on pure bloods. "And what about you? Are you You-Know-Who's illegitimate child?" she asked with a harsh, but jovial tone.

"Close. Sirius Black's son, Corvus Black." She stared for a moment before rolling her eyes at Harry's bemused grin.

"Great. Stuck with the children of homicidal wizards." She smiled towards Harry who flushed a little, before being distracted by Draco.

"Oh? And who exactly are _you_, miss high and mighty?" Draco asked impetuously, his gray eyes staring intently at the brown haired girl.

"I'm Elise Vulchanova – pure blood, because I know that matters to you." Draco turned his nose up at her, smirking confidently.

"Who?"

Harry groaned at Draco who turned to look at him in affront, "She's related to the witch _that founded Durmstrang_." Draco looked surprised, glancing between Harry and Elise who simply rolled her eyes.

"You're not going to start making stupid jokes about that, are you? Everyone else I've met has," she asked quickly – hints of a nervous tone creeping into her voice.

"No, of course not – Draco, shut up," Harry snapped quickly at Draco who had begun to open his mouth whilst Harry talked. Elise gave Harry a grateful smile again, before Draco suddenly spoke up.

"Well, fine. Anyway, I'll figure out what we're doing when we get to the school."

Harry arched a brow at Draco, "Who said you'll be getting to decide what we do?"

Draco turned, looking at him in surprise, starting to stutter a response, "I didn- I just assumed?"

Harry snorted and shook his head, noticing a smirking Elise watching quietly.

"How long have you two known each other, exactly?" she asked after a lull in the conversation, causing a slightly abashed Draco to shrug.

"… Not even an hour?" Harry said, running a hand through his hair in thought.

"Thought so. You look pretty awkward around him," she said to Harry casually, causing Draco to glance up in confusion towards them both.

Harry returned the look, his fingers tapping against the couch's edge awkwardly.

"Uh. So, what subjects are you looking forward to?" he asked lamely after a moment to both of them.

Elise stared at him blankly for a moment before shrugging.

"Probably Charms and Transfiguration." Draco gave a snort at her answer, drawing a piercing look from Elise, "What?"

"Nothing, just… a bit cliché, don't you think?" Draco let out a brief snigger, Elise glanced down slightly, squeezing her book tightly between her fingers.

"Well, considering _your_ family, I imagine you'll be looking forward to the Dark Arts."

Draco's eyes widened slightly before smirking, narrowing his eyes. Oddly enough, Harry found himself faced with the near overwhelming desire to punch the blonde boy.

"I am, actually. And potions."

Harry wasn't quite certain whether the urge was growing stronger due to Draco's smirk, or boastful words.

"What about you, Corvus?" Elise asked, turning her attention away from Draco – she seemed to be suffering from the same dilemma as Harry if her books increasingly perilous situation was anything to judge by.

"Probably Charms and the Dark Arts. I dunno – I haven't really got a preference." Draco rolled his eyes slightly, causing Harry to finally snap out.

"You know, not all of us want to just follow our parents and get by on their reputation alone."

Draco stopped, his eyes narrowing a little, "That's rich, coming from the boy whose father was the Dark Lord's most fanatic supporter."

Elise let out a puff of indignation, "You're joking, right? Your parents are Death Eaters that barely managed to get out of a prison sentence."

"Who even are you?! You're not even English and you're talking about my family like some kind of Weasley!"

The girl bristled slightly, "Well it's not hard when your family's reputation is one of the darkest in Europe."

Draco just pointed at Harry, "Why aren't you saying this to him too?!"

"Because he isn't acting like an arrogant child!"

"And you aren't? Thinking you're so much better than us just because your parents didn't fight in the war?" Draco pressed, going onto the offensive.

"I don't, I just-"

"Just start having a go at somebody just because of their family?"

"No! It's because you're acting-"

"You're just a giant hypocrite!" Draco's voice cut over everyone else's.

"And you're acting like an idiot Malfoy, shut up. You're embarrassing yourself," Harry said once Draco had finished, an awkward pause ensuing for the next few minutes – a fuming Elise drawing her knees to her chest and carrying on reading her book. Harry and Draco just sat there quietly, listening to the sound of the waves crashing against the ship.

"I'm sorry," Draco said softly, glancing up at both Elise and Harry who both blinked in surprise.

"You're sorry?" Harry asked incredulously.

Draco just gave him a piercing look in return before Elise sighed.

"Alright. It's fine. Let's forget it."

Harry gave her an incredulous look – after all, it had been her who started the argument in the first place, but shrugged and obeyed.

"Alright. Do you like Quidditch?" Harry asked in another lame attempt to start conversation, looking at Elise expectantly – Draco's gaze drifting over to her questioningly.

"Eh. It's alright. I'm not a huge fan but I'll play if I have to." Elise gave a shrug, lowering her book again.

"Better than those muggleborns who go on about their bloody "football" and "rugby". Honestly, I wish a wizard would just waltz out onto the field and kill the team one day. Would shut them up about the world cup at least," Draco ranted, turning slightly red.

"What are you on about? Football's great," Harry said nonchalantly, grinning as Draco got ready to rant at him despite the fact Harry had no idea what it was.

"Malfoy, he's pulling your leg. Look at him." Elise pointed at Harry and his leering grin before Draco turned away muttering.

"Git."

"I love quidditch – can't wait to play it. Me and my dad used to sit around the radio and listen to games," Harry said, revelling in the memory.

"You've never played? I'm going to have to teach you when we get there." Elise snorted, and Draco glanced over at her with narrowed eyes, but held his tongue.

"Eh, will there be time – where even is the school?" Harry asked, looking towards Elise who shrugged.

"Wait and see." Draco groaned at the cryptic response.

"I hate it when people say that," he said, flicking a strand of blonde hair away from his face.

"Probably because your silver spoon never fed you disappointment," Harry said to Draco, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Right, because I'm certain you weren't given practically everything you need either, Corvus _Black_," Elise said with a degree of bemusement.

"Oh yes, I'm certain growing up being unable to leave the house made me a very great member of society," Harry said with a loud snort. Elise frowned, and stared at him alongside Draco.

"You never left the house?" Draco asked in surprise.

"Well, on my eleventh birthday, and when I got on the ship. It's not like we could go out. You know, my dad's kind of a wanted criminal." Harry shrugged, watching them both struggle with the idea of never leaving the house for so long.

"You were like a pet that never left its cage," Elise said suddenly, causing Harry to laugh.

"Really? Of all the comparisons you compare me to a pet?" Draco gave a brief snicker at Harry's remark.

"It's not a bad thing," she defended, starting to grin.

"To you."

Draco just rolled his eyes, opening the trunk he had left at his feet and pulling out a book before closing it. Immediately, Elise's eyes flicked over to it – and frowning.

"'_Language acquisition and magic'_? Really? You don't already know German?" she asked.

"I do, but not a lot – I struggle with it." Harry nodded in sympathy – it had taken him a couple of years to get anywhere near good at German.

"Merlin's trousers, you are going to be just _loved_ by the professors."

"It's not Draco's fault he's not great with languages you know." Harry felt odd for defending this child who he felt so much frustration with.

"I only found out I was heading here a few months ago. My parents kept arguing about it," explained Draco.

"Why?" asked Elise simply, drawing a suspicious glance from Draco.

"Well. My mother didn't want me going so far away, and wanted me at Hogwarts – however, my father didn't like the fact that Dumbledore was in charge, and would rather have me learn the dark arts at Durmstrang."

"Sounds like your mother's a reasonable person at least," said Elise.

"Are you saying that because you don't want me here, or because she didn't want me learning the dark arts?"

"… Can I answer with both?"

"… And you act like _I'm_ a bad person."

Harry rolled his eyes at the slowly erupting argument, bringing his feet up onto the couch and leaning against an armrest.

* * *

The conversation had died down – resorting to them relaxing and either reading or napping with Elise curled up on the couch opposite Draco and Harry.

"Draco's asleep right?" she asked quietly, looking up from her book towards Harry who was reading a book on transfiguration.

"Yeah. I won't poke him though, he'd probably not appreciate that."

Elise gave a glance at Draco before looking back towards Harry.

"Are you two going to bunk together?" Harry blinked in confusion at her question that he was certain he'd misinterpreted.

"You share a room in Durmstrang with another student – boys can't bunk with girls though or I'd ask you," she explained upon seeing Harry's confusion.

"Um. Yeah, I guess? I don't know anyone else apart from you." Elise paused – considering his answer.

"Do you actually like him?" Elise asked, watching Harry closely.

"… I suppose. His family bothers me a bit, but I won't judge him for that."

"Despite the fact he seems eager to follow in their footsteps?"

Harry shrugged. "He's had no one else to look up to, I guess."

Elise rolled her eyes and leaned back. "Well, your choice I suppose. Don't be surprised if he turns against you though." She stood up, opening her trunk and pulling out a red furry cloak.

"What are you doing?"

"We're going to be there soon, and we'll not be anywhere warm. Get yours on." Harry hesitated before shrugging and obeying – giving Draco a gentle poke in his arm.

"Oi." Draco stirred, opening his eyes and sitting up quickly.

"Get a cloak on and sort yourself out. Elise says we'll be getting there soon," Harry said whilst clasping his own cloak around his shoulders. Draco seemed alert despite having just woken up, searching through his trunk for the cloak.

"Can't wait until they teach us summoning charms. When do we learn those?" Draco asked casually, glancing towards Elise.

"Well. Depends whether the teacher lets you take twilight charms."

"… Twilight charms?" Draco and Harry asked in unison.

"Charms lessons that take place in the evening – usually at twilight. For more advanced students," Elise explained. "There are twilight lessons for charms, potions, transfiguration and the dark arts."

Draco paused as he pulled out his cloak, "So, you do both standard lessons and the twilight lessons?"

"Twilight lessons are once a week," Elise said, motioning towards Draco to hurry up.

"Right. I'll go to those then." Elise gave a snort at Draco's statement.

"What?" Harry asked in confusion at Elise's reaction to Draco, pulling on a pair of gloves.

"It's for advanced students. You can't just attend. You have to be invited by the teacher."

"That sounds pretty bad. What if the teacher doesn't like you?" Draco asked, though his tone made it evident he did not expect this to happen to himself.

"There's an easy solution to that. Don't piss off your teachers."

Harry snorted as Draco started sniggering, drawing a quiet glare from Elise – although she soon gave in and started grinning herself.

There was a knock on the door, a scowling face covered by a thick beard poking through and speaking in loud, obtrusive German.

"Get your stuff and line up outside quickly."

They all paused, and started to hurry up as they heard the footsteps fading down the hallway.

* * *

As they stepped out, they were unprepared for the chill that hit them – even in the summer the salty wind coming in from the sea made Harry and Draco buckle at the knees. Elise gave an involuntary shiver, but otherwise stood firm while some of the other first years snickered at the two British boys.

"Pathetic, what are your names?" the man they had seen earlier asked in German.

Draco blinked as Harry answered swiftly in German – though his accent still tinged his speech, "Corvus Black, sir."

Draco took the cue from Harry, smirking as he spoke, "My name is Draco _Malfoy_." Harry was mildly impressed – Draco wasn't completely hopeless.

"Did I mishear you? I think you're missing something boy."

Draco paused before starting to speak uncertainly as the boys sniggered louder.

"… I am eleven?"

The boys and girls around him started laughing loudly, the man joining in after a minute.

"Hopefully this one will get a better grasp of German before term starts. Bloody Malfoy."

Draco looked awfully confused at the adult's German speech and Harry leaned in to whisper the translation into his ear feeling awfully sorry for the blonde boy – Elise didn't seem to feel the same way judging by her smirk.

"Now, I am Professor Hans Verzun. I will be taking you to the portkey that leads us to the school. No questions allowed until we get somewhere warm. Let's go." The teacher turned and marched down the gangplank with his cloak billowing in the fierce winds.

Harry glanced at Draco whose brows were furrowed, and patted his shoulder and nodded forwards.

"C'mon." Elise glanced over at them and smiled tentatively, staying a moment to walk with them down the gangplank, their boots soon meeting the crunch of crisp grass.

The landscape around them was full of coniferous trees – firs, pines and spruce that seemed to shy away from the grassy path they were on – the area under the trees stained with lichen and populated with purple flowers.

"Where are we?" asked Harry in English to Elise who rolled her eyes.

"We're in Africa." Draco stared at her blankly, Harry giving a sigh.

"No, seriously, where?" asked Harry again.

"Sweden. Or well – we could be in Denmark. I don't know where the ship landed, just that the school is in Sweden."

"Why didn't we just land at the school then?" Draco demanded, clenching his fists.

"So that people can't just track the ship to Durmstrang. Also, it's pretty far in land."

"Wait. Why didn't we just portkey there in the first place then?" asked Harry curiously.

"Portkeys can only travel so far – otherwise any form of magical transport would be made obsolete. Though, it's probably because the longer the distance, the more sick it makes the person using it. Plus, there's students from all over."

"Uh. Where _do_ you come from, then?" Draco asked.

"I was born in Bulgaria, but I've lived in Sweden most of my life."

"… So why were you on the ship?"

"It does a loop, starting in Sweden, and travelling around the countries before going back to the place where we are now. Probably changes from year to year though."

"I bloody hope so. I think I'll freeze to death if we don't reach that portkey soon," muttered Harry as the head of Professor Hans glanced over the three.

"Stop whining. You could have it worse," Elise whispered back, moving a stray strand of brown hair from her face.

Draco just nodded in agreement, looking glum.

* * *

It was a surprisingly short amount of time until they reached the portkey – an odd onyx ornament that could have been held onto by nearly fifty students floating in the centre of a small grey plaza. Yet, despite it having only been ten minutes, Harry and Draco were shivering as if in threat of turning into an icicle – and they were not alone. A few other students also seemed to be unused to the cold.

"Aha, it's actually here this year. Some of you think it's chilly already I can see, eh? Well, last year they had to wait for a half hour out here!" Hans let out a loud chortle – a few other students joined in while the already freezing pupils just paled further.

"Now! All you have to do is grip onto the hoop, and we should be gone shortly after."

Everyone took a step forward as they circled around the onyx hoop, and gripped onto the hoop with a hand – Harry's pressed between Elise and Draco's.

And they waited – seeming like nothing was going to happen but to freeze onto the hoop for the first five minutes.

And then Harry felt a powerful tugging sensation in his navel – the hoop and the area around them glowing blue for a moment before there Harry felt a powerful lurching sensation as the world flashed blue.

It felt like he was spinning – so fast that he couldn't breathe and it felt as if his chest was being crushed, yet he still felt the cold onyx hoop in his grip as they span and Harry was overcome with the urge to just let go and see what would happen.

And then he felt his body slam down against the ground, breathing heavily with a feeling of intense nausea. He groaned and glanced around him, struggling to lift his head – and saw at least thirty blurry forms around him. As he pressed his flat palms against the ground he tasted bile and groaned, spitting onto the ground beneath him.

"Was that your first journey by portkey, Corvus?" Elise asked him, looking a bit dizzy but otherwise steady – sat on the ground with her knees brought up to her chest.

"… Yes." He groaned, slowly moving back into a sitting position – spotting the teacher leaning against a tree waiting for them all to recover.

"I think I'm going to throw up," muttered a sallow Draco nearby.

"Don't do it on me," hissed Elise who gave a quick shove with her foot sending the unsteady Draco towards Harry who scrambled out of the way quickly.

"C'mon, we should go to the teacher." Harry jerked his head towards the professor who seemed to be getting ready to gather them all up.

"Give me a minute, Black," groaned Draco who was just started to push himself up.

"You don't want to give him an even worse impression of you, _Malfoy_. Get up," Harry said, grabbing his arm and helping him up.

"Fine. Right." Draco rolled his shoulders as he stood up, cringing.

"Gather up now boys! And girls," Professor Hans cried out in German.

Draco got the hint though and followed behind Elise and Harry when they moved along with the rest of the students.

"Now, it's a short walk to the institute, but in the past students have gotten lost. We find their bones after a few years, so stay close to one another! Enjoy the walk – you should be able to spot the aurora soon," the professor said cheerfully as he waved them on to follow him, setting off down a crude cobbled path barely discernible from the surrounding forest floor.

"What did he say?" Draco asked quietly, trampling over the path in between Harry and Elise.

"It was a bit creepy, kids get lost here and die sometimes though he seemed quite happy about it," Elise commented as she pulled her cloak tighter around herself.

"And we _still_ walk through here?" Draco questioned in alarm, Harry shrugging in response.

"Well, if you think about it, somebody has died everywhere, Draco," Harry said.

"That's not the point, Corvus!" Draco snapped eliciting a quiet giggle from Elise.

Harry just shrugged, grinning to himself as they marched down the cobbled path quietly, listening to the sounds of the forest and the other students talking amongst themselves.

The talk went silent as they emerged from the forest though and looked to the night sky – spirals of colour twisting through the sky, shimmering as if it were a mystical blanket over the world.

"In the name of Merlin, that's astounding," Harry muttered quietly in English.

Elise was looking at both Draco and Harry with a smirk on her face when they stopped gawping, "First time, huh?"

"Well, yeah. Never been out of the house remember?" Harry said, Draco just shrugged.

"Usually Father and Mother went somewhere sunny on holidays. Like Italy."

Elise rolled her eyes and gave Harry a gentle shove forwards, "We shouldn't fall to the back. Besides, you could see the school if you looked forward again." Following her instruction they both looked forward – the silhouette of three large, circular towers standing out from tall, square walls mounted upon a steep cliff overlooking a dark lake that dimly reflected the spectacle above.

"How big is it?" Harry asked, let down – despite its size, it wasn't very tall vertically making the building seem almost stunted.

"Um. Pretty big. A fair amount of it is underground in the cliffs – mostly the rooms," Elise replied.

"Why is it underground? Ran out of stone to build up?" Draco asked whilst sniggering.

"It's because in the winter, it gets freezing cold at night. Some students have caught hypothermia over the years," Elise said with a sigh.

"What, couldn't cast a simple heating charm?" Draco asked.

"Heating charms cannot be done permanently without enchanting, and the enchantments already on the building prevent these from being applied."

"Wait, what? Why?" Harry asked, blinking as Draco squinted and tried to figure it out.

"I'm not certain, I just remember some enchantments break other ones."

Harry and Draco just glanced at each other, and shrugged, continuing down the path with Elise.

* * *

As they approached the building, it became readily apparent that there were only two floors, yet, each floor would be tall enough to house two trolls piggybacking – the wooden gates leaving no gaps stood at five meters tall and swung open to greet them – a tall, thin figure stood there scratching his chin, his other hand wrapped around his body that was adorned in silver fur.

"Welcome! I'm glad that we didn't lose anyone tonight like the last year. I am your headmaster, Igor Karkaroff. Professor Hans here will be teaching you Charms at Durmstrang – a lesson I'm sure you will very much enjoy." The Headmaster gave them all an unnerving smile – looking at them like they were his victims.

"Now, I'm certain you are very much eager to get to your rooms – but first, you must be informed that at Durmstrang, you are required to bunk with a friend. Boys with boys only. Now, you will have to stay with this partner for a long time, so choose wisely – if there is no one to bunk with, then you may be put with a higher year student who lacks a partner. Due to incidents last year-"

Harry turned to look at Draco just watched the Headmaster in growing confusion, nodding at some sections and glancing around at others. Harry gave him a nudge and leaned in to whisper quietly as the Headmaster carried on.

"We have to bunk with someone, do you want to bunk with me?" Harry asked.

Draco looked at him and nodded simply, before Harry turned his attention back to the Headmaster.

"- I'm glad you understand. Now, the start of term starts on the 2nd of September, and will be started with a feast. Exposed flames are not allowed other than for magical purpose outside of your rooms. Now, I'm sure I've bored you long enough – head inside, and tap the empty room you and your partner chose with your wand each, and you will claim the room. Again, welcome," Karkaroff finished, sweeping his arms outwards dramatically and vanishing with a twirl.

"You heard him," Hans said gruffly, marching off, leaving them to wander inside – Harry and Draco deigning to follow Elise off through an archway to the left.

"So, where are we going?" Harry asked, causing Elise to stop and turn.

"_I'm_ going to the girl's quarters. Weren't you listening when he told you where to go?"

Draco shook his head, "I didn't even understand most of it."

Elise looked at him, aghast before sighing, "Right, then, over the next few days me and Corvus can help teach you German. Your quarters are down the stairs to the left. Try and get there quickly before you only have the worst rooms left." By the time Elise had mentioned worst, Harry and Draco had already turned and begun to sprint down the corridor, twisting through students – ones that they both recognized from the walk, and others that were clearly older.

Soon enough, they reached a corridor filled with ornate oak doors on each side with numbers glowing above the doors. Draco scanned along the corridor, before running off towards the number thirty three, Harry following in his wake.

"Why are we going to this one? How do we tell if it's unoccupied?"

"Father said this one was the best, and I don't know. Knock, I guess? Or just tap with your wand?"

Harry shrugged, pulling out his wand and tapping the door with it as Draco raised his fist to knock – immediately, the door thrummed and emitted golden light.

Draco glanced over and took out his wand and did the same, the same glow emitting – however, this time it let out a loud click, and swung open to reveal a large room – well furnished with two desks, two large beds, a fire crackling in the corner with two chairs and a sofa, as well as a window overlooking the lake set into the wall. Harry wandered inside, going to the right bed and the dresser that was hidden just out of view, pulling his trunk inside and leaning it against the dresser, Draco just planting it in front of his bed.

"I guess that means we claimed the room?" Harry asked inquisitively, going to press his hand against the luxurious material of the duvet.

"Well, if not, then someone's going to be very angry when they find us, Corvus."

Harry shrugged, going to the window and opening it slightly, leaning out – noting there was no window to the left.

"I think that your dad told you to get this one because it's the first with a window. Does he know the Headmaster?" Harry closed the window, shivering as he pulled off his cloak, hanging it up on one of two hooks on the back of the door.

"Yes, he asked about the rooms and Karkaroff told him about this room. Most people think that Durmstrang's cold and forgiving but they forget – it caters to the upper echelons of society. It isn't like Hogwarts."

"I still don't see how you and your family thinks that muggleborns are any worse than pure bloods. Muggles – I understand that, but why are they any different?" Harry asked – some genuine courtesy amongst the reprimanding tone.

"It's our culture, Corvus, they corrupt it. They understand nothing of our culture, or society – and come in talking of _football_, and _helicopters_. Look at how backwards their society is – they teach girls and boys different things just because of their _gender_." Draco's miniature passionate speech made Harry stop and think – he had a point, even if it was slightly warped.

"Not all of them will be like that. Plus, we have some backwards stuff in our society too," Harry argued, before Draco snorted.

"Corvus, you were stuck in your house your whole life. All you know about our society is from _books_."

Harry went silent – Draco was right on that at least, and the truth stung Harry ever so slightly – his experience of the world was so limited – would it be right to have an opinion on it all?

They unpacked, and got into bed in silence after that, and Harry fell asleep to the sound of crackling flames.

**29****th**** August, 1991, Durmstrang Institute**

The daylight that crept through the window illuminated the room as the fire had prior to it being reduced to embers.

Draco stirred first, Harry still asleep under his covers that he clutched to his body tightly.

As Draco took the first few steps towards Harry's bed the wooden floor creaked loudly, Harry slowly starting to awake stretching, looking around blearily before focusing on Draco and frowning.

"… I thought I was at home for a moment," Harry explained, Draco just nodding in understanding.

"Do you know what the time is, Draco?" he yawned as he pulled himself out of bed, exposing his skinny form to the cold and shivering as he made his way to the wardrobe and pulling out some trousers, a shirt, tunic and red cloak, Draco following suite with his own attire.

"What are we supposed to do today and tomorrow?" the blonde boy asked as he fixed the clasp for his cloak.

"I have no idea, but might be a good idea to help you learn German. Can you cast the charms?" Harry asked simply.

Draco sneered for a moment before pausing, and shaking his head, "No. I can never get them right."

Harry thought for a moment, "I can do them, but maybe Elise can help better, we should probably go find her."

Draco gave a reluctant nod, gesturing to the door before pointing behind Harry.

"Corvus, your wand," he said lazily before opening the door and leaving, waiting for Harry to grab his wand before continuing down the mostly unoccupied corridor, Harry glancing at the stone pillars curiously – it looked like the entire corridor and building had been carved out of the earth, yet was too polished to be natural.

"Where is everyone?" Harry muttered quietly to Draco, quickly dodging around a lanky student who emerged from a corridor to their right.

"What are you two doing out here?" The boy he dodged asked in surprised German, two black eyes looking at them past a hooked nose as he turned around quickly.

Draco blinked in confusion, and Harry quickly replied, "Uh. We were looking for a friend, we just got here yesterday." Harry cringed slightly as the older boy's jaw tightened before shrugging.

"She's probably at breakfast, it's down the corridor I came from." Harry frowned slightly, speaking loudly as he noticed a ruby on the boy's cloak.

"What is that for?"

The boy looked at Harry in surprise before speaking, "I'm the captain of Red Team. Quidditch – I'm supposed to be getting to training, sorry," he answered before turning and striding down the corridor.

Draco just looked at Harry expectantly who reluctantly gave a brief explanation of what they said, Draco immediately moving down the corridor.

It wasn't long until Harry, following suit wandered through the open door into a much larger room – steps leading down to the next floor that was covered in various tables and benches, teachers dispersed amongst the students who ate from plates. As Harry descended down the stairs, he looked up – beams and ornate arches cutting across the width of the room – at the far end of the room, opposite Harry he saw a few students sat tuning instruments on a raised, stone platform.

"I guess this is the dining room," Draco said.

"No shit," Harry muttered under his breath, smirking slightly afterwards at his use of Sirius' expression.

Draco and Harry stood awkwardly on the stairs as they scanned for the brunette witch, until the witch in question stood up and waved at them from an empty table.

"You two looked like idiots stood there," she said as they approached the table and sat down – plates appearing in front of them with sizzling tomato sausages, buttered toast, eggs sprinkled with pepper and beans trickling over everything.

Draco peered at the food as he sat, "It'll do, I guess," he muttered before slowly starting to cut up his sausages whilst Harry just gnawed on them from his fork hungrily, Elise just cutting them up a piece at a time to eat neatly.

Once they had finished, Harry quickly explained what he wanted to try with Draco to Elise who nodded.

"You know, if you had just bothered to learn _German_ before coming here, you wouldn't be in this situation. Either way, it's easy enough – just constantly study German over the next few days after we cast the charm on you."

Draco grunted slightly – evidently displeased, though whether it was due to Elise telling him what to do or the idea of studying was unknown to Harry.

"Anyway, Elise, who are you with?" Harry asked.

"With? Some girl called Amalia. She's alright, but obsessed with how she looks. She spent an hour fixing her hair this morning. Speaking of which – Draco, did you forget about yours?"

Draco blinked in confusion, running a hand through his blonde hair that was swept over his forehead as Harry started to snicker.

"Not like you can talk either Corvus, I don't think you've seen a comb in your life," Draco said cuttingly, though it didn't bring a stop to Harry's laughter.

"We can relax in your room," Elise said, standing up.

"And why not yours?" Draco demanded, oddly defensive.

"Amalia. We made an agreement not to have boys in our room. Besides, I want to see what yours looks like." She grabbed Harry's arm and pulled him to his feet as well, Draco complying and standing with a yawn before they headed out of the dining hall and down the corridor to their room, opening it and allowing Elise to go in.

"Um. You got a window?"

Draco grinned at Harry who smirked in return.

"Yeah, we got a window," Draco said triumphantly.

"There's not supposed to be many rooms with windows, you're lucky." Harry shrugged, pulling out his wand.

"Let's just get on with this," he said, Elise's eyes blinking in surprise at his wand.

"That's aspen, right?" she asked in a tone of intrigue.

Harry glanced over and nodded, "Why?"

Elise fidgeted slightly as Draco jumped onto his bed, "It's supposed to be rare right?"

Harry nodded and waved a hand, "C'mon, the incantation is _lingua adtineo_."

Elise pulled out her own wand that was a much darker colour than Harry's own wand, raising her wand towards Draco at chest height from her side, Harry doing similarly.

"Right, spin and upwards flick, right?" Harry asked Elise who nodded.

In unison they uttered the charm, spiralling their wands before flicking upwards, the air hazing around Draco slightly before returning to normal.

"… I think you messed up," Draco said after a moment, "Nothing happened."

Elise groaned, "Nothing's supposed to happen you idiot. You just retain languages better. Now, start studying, the more times it's cast on someone the less of an effect it has."

Draco gave a grumble and pulled out a book on German, Harry and Elise electing to help him.

**1****st**** September, 1991, Hogwarts**

Dumbledore watched the retreating form of Hermione Granger for a while before the door closed, and Severus Snape spoke.

"So, it seems as if your prediction of Harry being sent to Beauxbatons or here was lacking, Lupin."

Dumbledore sighed, "Severus, there is no indication that this Corvus Black that Miss Granger met is, indeed, Harry Potter. For all we know, Sirius may have-"

"He didn't! We'd have known!" Remus shouted, interrupting Dumbledore who simply waited for Remus to finish before carrying on.

"Sirius may have had a son, though it does raise further questions. I will enquire of Karkaroff as to whether this Black is indeed upon the register for their school. I've already sent a letter to Maxime to see if Harry has arrived at Beauxbatons."

Remus seethed silently – it was rare for Remus to get so angry, and Severus' smirk was not helping matters.

"You'd have to be an idiot not to suspect it. The way she described him sounds like a young James, and to be in Diagon Alley on Harry's birthday? It makes perfect sense, he'd be getting his wand," Severus said triumphantly.

"Yet, we have no evidence – just correlations, which is not enough to say with certainty that this is the case," Dumbledore said patiently, glancing at Remus who seemed to be paying attention if not electing to speak himself.

"Then how do you believe we should proceed, Headmaster?" Snape said, his hands clasped behind his black robes.

"We wait. As we have done before."

Remus suddenly spoke through a veneer of frustration though his tone outwardly appeared calm, "And where has that gotten us, exactly? It took an eleven year old girl to even find out that Harry is either hidden as Sirius' son, or Sirius somehow had an illegitimate child."

Severus nodded, much to Remus' surprise.

Dumbledore simply looked at them both, and gave a sigh, "You're right. Yet, there are no pieces we can move just yet. We cannot march into Durmstrang – indeed, to even find the school appears an impossible feat. Thus, we must carry on with the original plan, and try to simply keep a track upon Corvus Black, as it appears he is the only clue as to where Harry is."

Severus and Remus had a drink with Dumbledore in his office before leaving Dumbledore to his thoughts.

It had become readily apparent to him what Sirius had done – he wasn't hiding Harry by trying to make him untraceable – rather he was hiding Harry by associating him so heavily with the dark arts so that no one would ever possibly think the child that defeated the greatest Dark Lord was Corvus Black, child of a murderer and death eater.

Of course, this meant that Sirius was putting himself at great personal risk for Harry's safety.

"Or, it could be his son," Dumbledore muttered to himself ponderously.

It was unlikely – but not impossible.

He supposed he would just have to wait and see, and so he started to write to Karkaroff.

**1****st**** September, 1991, Malfoy Manor**

Lucius sat down at his desk with a frustrated sigh. For the last few days – ever since meeting Corvus Black at the port, he had been searching for clues as to where this boy came from, yet, he seemingly had no sign of ever existing. At first, he had suspected – much as his wife had – that the boy was Harry Potter, being hidden in a clever ruse by Sirius Black.

Yet, the boy had no scar, and although he physically resembled James Potter who he had fought multiple times his mannerism's indeed resembled that of his claimed father.

He was an enigma, to which Lucius very much desired the answer.

He pulled out the small folder from his desk – woefully empty – on Corvus Black. He had asked Karkaroff on the day that he had sent his son to Durmstrang to keep an eye on Black, and so he had – apparently the boy had made friends with a girl and boy, Elise Vulchanova, and his son.

He had found the girl curious – whilst the Vulchanova family was indeed prestigious in Bulgaria, and among the elite of the international wizarding world, her grandmother had been cast out by the family for marrying a muggle – though the witch's daughter had not defiled herself similarly and had married a pureblood husband, making the girl herself a pureblood.

Now, despite this, the girl had frequent visits to her family from Sweden where she and her mother lived, meaning that she may share the rivalry her family has with the Krums, whose son was also at Durmstrang.

Lucius leaned back, looking at the elaborate oak desk for a moment as he pondered.

If Black was truly Harry Potter, he would not have to wait long to find out, after all this was the boy who had defeated the Dark Lord. He must have a true ability with magic, dark power that none could understand to be capable of such a feat.

It was a simple test – though it would not be anything other than an indication towards the truth, and perhaps, it may be better to speak to the boy in person again – he would send Draco a letter to ask the boy to visit them at Christmas. He was certain that Sirius Black would want to get out of the house he despised so very much, after all.

He just hoped that Corvus Black would agree.


	3. Chapter 3

I changed the title of the story from "**The Black Prince**" to "**Rising Smoke**" due to a few reasons – the main one being it may be confused with the rewrite of "The Prince that was promised", another being that I felt most people wouldn't understand the title was a reference to Edward The Black Prince, a historical figure who I took some inspiration from for one of the characters within the story.

This led to the title Rising Smoke, which, whilst being ambiguous is more representative of the story's overall plot arc.

Sorry, I hate seeing author's notes too.

**2****nd**** September, 1991, Durmstrang Institute**

The sun had just started to rise when Harry awoke, groaning and stretching out in his bed before pulling himself into an upright positon and glancing around the room – Draco slumbering quietly in his bed still, Harry decided to step out of bed onto the floor with an involuntary shiver. Draco had left the window open to keep himself awake a little longer for studying the night before, and the result was a freezing cold room.

He sighed, wandering over to the window and closing it – the loud thud causing Draco to shift under his duvet as he started to wake up. Harry rolled his eyes and moved over to the wall between his bed and the fire, pressing against it to open the door to the lavish bathroom, mirrors on every wall, a shower in the far side of the wall, and a toilet and sink in the corner just out of sight.

The discovery of the bathroom had been entirely accidental – Draco had simply leant on the hidden door one night and fell through into the bathroom. It was a much needed relief – two days without a shower had taken its toll. Now, Harry was happy to strip and step under the steaming hot shower that made his body relax, warmth spreading throughout his core.

When he stepped past the glass panels around the shower, he quickly wrapped a towel around his waist as he started to dry off – Draco wandering in as he started to pull on some clothes.

"Hello," Draco said in simple German, "What time did you wake up, Corvus?"

"Not long ago. When do lessons start again?"

"Uhm. They start at nine," Draco answered after a pause, carrying on the conversation in his slow German – much improved since they arrived. Draco seemed to have an aptitude for learning languages, which made Harry wonder how he struggled in the first place.

Harry quickly glanced through the door, noting the time on the clock.

"Hour and fifteen minutes, Draco," he said as he started to brush his teeth – Draco himself was starting to lay out his towels.

Once Harry was done, he stepped outside, running a hand through his hair as he picked up his aspen wand, giving it a quick flick and incanting the levitation charm – starting to raise his bed off of the floor smoothly, before lowering it back down to the ground again steadily – only the tiniest sound of wood against stone being produced.

Draco took another fifteen minutes to emerge – his hair styled as it usually was, yet, Harry noticed that there was a glimmer of doubt present in his grey eyes.

"Corvus, where do we get our timetables from?" he asked quietly.

Harry paused. He had no idea.

"We need to ask Elise," he said before turning on his heel and running out the door wand in hand, and glasses turning askew.

Harry vaulted an unoccupied bench in the hall before jumping onto his seat next to Elise, wasting no time before asking the question Draco had asked him but a minute prior.

"Where do we get our tables from?" he said, breathless.

Elise opened her mouth to answer before flinching as Draco slammed down on his seat next to Harry.

"You get them from Professor Mulkavitch." Harry looked around the room, frowning.

"Where is he?" he asked again, a confused look upon his face.

"Uh. By the door. You ran past her."

Harry blinked as Draco was already pushing himself out of his seat and sliding between students before darting up the stairs to the professor.

"Not like it matters much. Everyone in our year has the same timetable," Elise added on as Draco started hurrying down the stairs smiling at Harry.

"Got yours too, Corvus," he said as he handed Harry his who started reading it.

"Charms and then Dark Arts first thing," Harry announced, Elise giving him a brief smirk.

"I guess you're going to love Mondays then," she said, before glancing at Draco who shrugged.

"This isn't too bad. You can just memorize one day and then you know every day."

Elise looked at Draco in confusion, Harry just trying to analyse the timetable to see what he was saying.

"Look at it. Every lesson shifts down one period the next day. Dark arts is period two Monday, then three on Tuesday, and four on Wednesday."

Elise looked at Draco as if reappraising him, "You good with patterns then, Malfoy?"

"Yeah, my mother used to play a game where we'd leave each other hidden messages, and she always left them in a kind of pattern."

Harry opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by the audible pop of breakfast arriving – eggs benedict, Harry noticed. Sirius used to make this for them both on a Sunday.

He elected to focus upon his breakfast rather than his memories.

* * *

It was with some trepidation that Harry walked into the classroom, Draco and Elise trailing behind him. It wasn't like anything he imagined – there were around thirty desks that seated two, arranged in a semi-circle on raised stone platforms around a large central, circular dais.

As Draco and Harry seated themselves on the desk nearest the front with Elise sitting behind them, the teacher strode into the class – it was the teacher from the day they arrived. His thick beard was less unkempt now, much tidier and befitting a nobleman in contrast to its previous iteration which suited a hermit.

"First years! Welcome!" he yelled exuberantly.

The class mumbled back a reply.

"I'm going to go ahead and guess that most of you have had some experience with charms before – though we are soon to learn what extent that is," he said, his voice reaching the furthest corners of the classroom.

"Now, many of you will know that Durmstrang prides itself upon our duellists. Our ability to produce great duellists has always been one of our dear headmaster's bragging rights," he said with a chuckle that was returned by the nervous class.

"This is why the first lesson of the first year is one that will teach you the basics of duelling alongside its subject. That is why, today, I will teach you how to duel – and then those of you confident enough can duel one another."

The class was a blend of nervous, confused and excited faces – with Harry and Draco appearing the latter. Harry was feeling a contraction in his chest, as if his throat had gone dry – and he knew the cure required him to win his duel.

"Now, I will need two volunteers – who is brave enough?" the professor asked teasingly.

A fair few hands went up, Harry focusing on two large boys he recognized from the ship – they had short dirty blonde hair and broad shoulders.

Harry raised his – the professor giving a snort.

"A lot of aspirants," Professor Hans chuckled, pointing at Harry and one of the two larger boys,

"You two. Get down here."

Harry stood up, Draco pouting at not being chosen – Elise just wearing her best poker face as he stepped onto the dais – the large boy stepping up only a few moments after, facing him.

"Now, you stand this far apart – the length of the dais, yes. Now, draw your wands, walk towards each other," the professor said, watching as the two marched towards each other.

"My name is Marcus Koneg. Remember that name," the boy said, smirking despite his furrowed brows.

"Now you both bow!" the professor yells out.

They bowed.

"And now you duel!"

There was a momentary pause, and then Harry yelled out loudly.

"_Lumos Maxima_!"

Harry squeezed his eyelids tight as he yelled the spell, finishing the spell with a final flick of his wand, only to hear multiple loud shouts – opening his eyes again he saw a dazed Marcus holding his eyes, wand stretched out before him, trying to shout out various spells but unable to perform any of the motions correctly without his sight.

Harry breathed, aiming his wand before giving a swish and flick, incanting "_Wingardium Leviosa_," and slowly moving his wand up, Marcus letting out a yell of frustration in what sounded like Finnish.

And then Harry swiftly aimed his wand downwards, and a loud crack was heard as his body crumpled against the dais.

"And we have a victor apparently," the professor said, moving over to Marcus' limp form, moving his wand over him slowly, a faint glow surrounding the dirty blonde boy.

"Right, return to your seat victor and well done again. I'll take the loser to the medical ward and then I'll be back – we will be studying the fire making charm today."

There was a sudden _pop_ as both Marcus and his teacher vanished, Harry moving over to his seat quietly, shaking a little.

"Are you alright, Corvus?" Elise asked quietly, leaning over her desk slightly.

"He's fine – he crushed that other kid," Draco commented, grinning slightly.

Harry shrugged – the shaking slowly coming to a halt, "I feel bad. Will he be alright, do you think?"

Elise opened her mouth but was cut out by Draco's snort.

"You smashed him into the floor, not cast the killing curse. Give him a day or two and he'll be fine."

Elise gave a reassuring smile, settling back into her seat as Harry nodded.

"I can't remember the incantation for the fire making charm," Harry admitted meekly.

Elise grinned, "_Incendio_." As soon as she had flourished her wand, flames burst into life upon her desk, starting to slowly engulf the desk in flame – causing her to scoot away slightly, before the fire turned to steam, the teacher having seemingly re-entered the room silently and removed the flames.

"Well done miss…?"

"Elise Vulchanova."

"Well done then. It seems you can create fire remarkably well – might be best to practice getting rid of it, eh? Looks like there's two likely candidates for twilight charms already. Let's see if the rest of you can compete with their accomplishments thus far!"

Draco looked determined as he snarled down his wand, flourishing violently.

"_Incendio!_" he said loudly, jabbing his wand towards the wooden idol they had been given to practice on, sparks flying from his wand but precious else.

"Draco, you're doing it wrong. You need to keep the jab at the end steady and do a counter clockwise movement beforehand," Harry commented, already onto lighting a candle.

Draco flinched at the critique, before breathing deeply, looking down his wand with narrowed eyes.

"_Incendio,_" he said loudly, clearly, flourishing and then jabbing at the idol – a sudden jet of flame incinerating the idol eliciting a surprised yelp from him and a sigh of relief from both Elise and Harry.

"Yes! Finally!" he shouted in English, drawing the attention of Professor Hans who swooped over to Draco.

"Remember where you are. German only. Now – if you can create the flame, you need to control it. Try and melt the three candles, one at a time. If you can do it, I'll let you into the twilight class."

Draco blinked in surprise before responding in heavily accented German.

"Did I hear you right? My German isn't great – I'll get into twilight?"

The professor nodded once before waving his wand and summoning the three candles, lining them up closely.

Draco watched them for a moment before raising his hawthorn wand, and performing the charm on the left candle, creating a jet of flame that set the wax to melting, wax dripping over the gold like the sweat that dripped off of Draco's brow.

"You didn't touch the others – now the last two," the teacher said, folding his arms impatiently.

Draco moved his wand to simply aim at the next candle to begin performing the charm again, the fire that he created causing the second candle to rapidly degenerate into a hot pool of wax – however, the tiniest drop of wax trickled down the third candle, Draco's eyes going wide.

"Eh. Close enough. Now the last one boy."

Draco breathed a sigh of relief, and created fire one last time, melting the last candle – his jab at the end being much steadier than in the minutes prior.

"Well, I guess I'll let you in – but I expect you to keep studying. Don't get cocky."

Harry patted Draco's shoulder in congratulations, Elise leaning over her own desk, moving the lit candle to the side slightly as she did.

"You looked as if you were going to shit yourself there, Malfoy, I'm glad you didn't. I guess," Elise commented.

Draco rolled his eyes slightly, and continued on trying to practice – Harry now moving on to trying to control the flames in the air.

It was forty minutes later that they left the classroom, Harry practicing the wand movement still absently as they walked to the next class.

"Dark arts – I guess you and Corvus are happy then," Elise said, rolling her eyes.

"According to my father, they usually have us practice on one another. So, there might be more duelling."

Harry let out a groan, "Great. People firing curses at me. Just what I wanted."

"Well, Corvus, the key is to not let them hit you," Malfoy said pedantically, wearing a smug grin on his face.

"Malfoy's right on this one, you know."

Harry just shrugged at the two, "Kind of hard to not get hit when I don't know the shield charm."

"That's a hard spell to master though, Corvus. Most wizards struggle," Elise said patiently.

"Well, I want to learn it. Trust me, I'll figure it out eventually," he replied as they crossed over the bridge between the towers, glancing out over the grounds below the three towers.

"Anyway, I bet I can beat you in a duel, Corvus."

"You so sure, Draco?" Harry replied, bristling at the challenge.

"Merlin's balls, if one of you two ends up in the hospital, I'll put dung beetles in your beds."

Draco gave a short, nervous laugh at Elise's threat, knowing full well she was serious.

"C'mon Elise, it's just a bit of fun," Harry said in an attempt to placate her.

"Yeah, but you two are the only people I could call friends here. Even if you are both posh British idiots."

"What about Amalia?" Draco asked tentatively.

"She's alright, but too… prissy. She's a caricature of a person. Only cares about appearances," Elise said, glancing around herself afterwards.

"I swear you're paranoid. It's not like she'll be right behind you, you know," Draco said with a snigger as they walked through the doorway into a room that was a stark contrast to the charms classroom.

The room was long – a simple wooden floor, with benches on all sides. They could fit two or three duels in the room easily without any intercepting.

"Huh. Guess Draco's right," Harry didn't hesitate to admit whilst Elise just groaned loudly.

"Do we sit down?" Draco asked, glancing around the room – the other students were settling down onto benches in distinct groups.

It appeared as if Amalia had placed herself at the centre of a group of girls – all wearing expensive clothing under their cloaks. The boy who looked much like Marcus from Charms had another small group of fairly burly boys around him, and then there were other groups – slightly more assorted, but seemingly grouping together by nationality.

"Yeah, I think so." Harry said, sitting down on a nearby bench, Elise and Draco flanking him on either side.

* * *

It was a long five minutes until the teacher swooped in, a dark purple vest over loose fitting black trousers – an outfit that drew sniggers from his students, sniggers that he ignored as he drew his wand.

"Welcome! Now, I'm certain you are all brazen and ready to take on the challenge of learning the dark arts – but first, I want to create teams!"

Harry blinked as Elise whispered out in surprise, "Teams?"

"I heard that, miss! Yes, teams. You will get into teams of no more than five, and you will compete. The first group that can master the spells that I shall teach you wins, and they get invited to my twilight session."

The students stood up – not having to move much as they were already in groups.

"I wonder what we'll have to do," Elise commented absently, eyes fixed upon the teacher who yelled for their attention.

"Right! The two spells I desire are the disarming charm, '_Expelliarmus'_ and the banishing charm, '_Depulso'_. Best figure them out."

"You said you were going to teach us them!" yelled a boy from a place Harry could not see.

"I just did. You know the incantations, figure the rest out yourself."

Harry turned to Draco who arched an eyebrow back at him.

"Do you know how to cast either?" Harry asked quickly.

"I can sort of cast the banishing charm, but not the disarming charm."

"Elise?" Harry asked next.

"Don't really know either, but I have an idea on how to do both of them."

"I can cast the disarming charm. Draco, can you show us how you do the banishing charm?"

Draco nodded, yelling "_Depulso!_" before performing a cutting motion with the wand against Harry who went stumbling backwards before landing on his rear with a grunt.

"What are you doing Malfoy?!"

"Showing you both how to do the charm," Draco replied to Elise's exclamation calmly, before blinking in surprise as he heard Harry speak his own charm, Draco's wand flying from his grip before being caught deftly by Harry.

"Did you catch that?" Harry asked, brushing himself down.

"Yes, I did," Elise stated icily, seeming unamused by the two boys antics – Draco grinned though and held out his hand for his wand.

"Nice," Draco complimented him – which meant a lot to Harry, as he had been suspicious of Draco's ability to recognize anyone's abilities but his own.

"Thanks." It wasn't long until they had the melodramatic defence teacher swooping down upon them – seeming attracted to the exchange of spells.

"My my, looks like we're nearly there! This may be over sooner than I had thought."

Harry grinned, Elise seeming to appear relieved by that.

"Elise, try the disarming spell," Harry said, smiling encouragingly at her.

She hesitated, before lunging forth and flourishing her wand before speaking the incantation, "_Expelliarmus_!" A silver flash appeared and Harry's wand was tugged away from his grip, being sent rolling across the floor.

"Um. Not quite, speed up the flick and drop at the start." Harry said, Draco content with just folding his arms and watching analytically.

Elise nodded, and tried again, following his instructions – this time the wand flying from his grip, before falling a foot short of Elise's outstretched hand.

"Gah! This isn't fair. What makes it fly more?"

The professor just watched her with a smirk playing at the corners of his lips before answering quietly, "The key to that is the spiral at the end of the movement, and the faster you complete the spiral alongside projecting the image of the wand flying into your hand, the more powerful the effect. It is a charm, and thus relies on both the imagery within your mind as well as the movement."

Elise nodded, sighing as she raised her wand yet again, just as a loud crack was heard – the teacher rushing off to see the other student's progress.

"Focus, Elise. C'mon," Harry encouraged, Draco silent as he waited with cautious optimism.

She nodded, and performed the spell one last time – this time being able to catch the wand clumsily from the air before punching the air with her fist, throwing Harry's wand back to him.

"Thanks, just one more me and you need to get the hang of. Draco, do you want a go at the disarming charm first?"

It took Draco a few more attempts than Elise, but by the time he had figured it out he was as adept at it as if he had been practicing the spell for months, a cocky smile appearing upon the blonde boy's face. Eventually, Draco began to teach them the banishing spell, which Harry grasped incredibly quickly.

"You got lucky, Corvus, do it again," Draco said, fuming in frustration with Harry's ability to match him so effortlessly.

"Alright," Harry shrugged, performing the spell again, sending the bench clattering against the wall noisily.

Draco just exhaled sharply, turning to Elise, "Go on then, you do it too!" he said loudly – eliciting a series of confused blinks from the brunette who just started to practice the spell, seeming to get increasingly flustered with each instruction Draco barked at her.

"Merlin's saggy bollocks! I get it, Malfoy! Stop yelling down my ear!" she snapped, her frustration breaking through.

"It's not my fault that you're incapable of casting the most basic banishing charm!" he yelled back in English.

"_Depulso_!" Elise yelled suddenly, sending the charm into Malfoy who was flung backwards as if on a chain onto the floor with a loud thud.

"Oh! Looks like these two are having a lover's spat! Well, if you insist – might as well make a duel of it! You two, get to the centre!" yelled the Professor, Elise shrinking away as he said it.

"I don't want to duel him," she said quietly enough for Harry to hear who sighed and stepped forward instead.

"I'll duel him instead," he announced, Draco sneering at Elise as he stood up and went to the other end of the room.

"You know what to do. Start," the professor said impatiently, his eyes gleaming with desire for the conflict.

They bowed, before Draco launched into sending a banishing charm towards Harry who dodged away quickly.

"_Incendio_!" Harry yelled, pointing at the floor underneath Draco which erupted into flame, eliciting a startled shout as he moved out of the way, before with a cheeky smirk imitated Harry, covering his eyes.

"_Lumos Maxima_!"

There was a shout from Harry who had closed his eyes in anticipation, firing off a blind expelliarmus to where Draco was moving – the only sign of whether it worked was Draco's surprised yell, Harry grinning as he outstretched his hand, waiting for the wand to arrive in his hand.

All he caught was the knockback jinx into his chest, being sent flying back, his wand slipping from his grasp as he hit his head against the ground.

"And we have a victor!" yelled out the Professor who gave a delighted giggle, running over to Draco and raising his arm in the air as Harry simply looked up groggily at Draco.

"Are you alright?" Elise asked, helping him up into a seated position.

"He beat me," Harry said dully in response.

"Yeah, but you both did really well. I could tell the professor was impressed. Most people here can't get off half the spells you two did properly."

"Only lasted about a minute though," Draco said in a drawl as he approached Harry, who he offered his hand to – Harry staring at it blankly for a moment before taking it and pulling himself to his feet.

"That was clever of you, Draco."  
"Yeah, it was," he replied, before beginning to grin with Harry.

"… You two are insane," concluded Elise, rolling her eyes.

"Dismissed! Take an early break!" the professor yelled, before pointing at Harry, Draco and Elise, "Except for you three – I want to talk with you."

They looked at each other, and shrugged, wandering over to him.

"You're all obviously in my twilight session – but I wanted to tell you that if you don't turn up to the duelling club tomorrow then I'm going to flay you. Don't waste your talent."

They nodded, before Draco asked a simple question, "You're going to do what to us?"

* * *

After break they headed towards the History of Magic classroom which was on the other side of the school. As they rounded around the corner into the History of Magic classroom they immediately recognized it's resemblance to the Charms classroom from earlier in the day. However, much unlike the charms class, at the centre of the dias, attending to a blackboard, was a strikingly attractive young, black haired woman. Harry's eyes didn't leave her as he sauntered to an empty desk in the middle, sitting down next to Elise, Draco just behind them.

"Who is _she_?" asked Draco quietly.

"The teacher, I'd presume," Elise said, glancing at the two before groaning, "Oh grow up."

However, they weren't the only boys in the class to react in this way – the vast majority were staring at the woman as if she'd just stepped out of a painting.

"My dad hated History of Magic. Don't think this'll be as bad," muttered Harry, getting a swat over the head from Elise.

"Pig," she said before pulling out a notebook from her bag she'd retrieved from her room at break, scrawling down the date in the top corner with the quill and ink that was on the desk.

"Hey, mind if you pull out a piece of paper for me?" whispered Harry, a sheet soon appearing in front of him, "Thanks."

Draco seemed to have no interest in taking notes, instead just paying close attention as the teacher turned around.

"Good afternoon! I am professor Bakarl, and your teacher of History of Magic. Now, I'll admit – we're not going to be covering anything truly interesting until after Christmas, but we need to develop your analytical skills. So, we will start by studying the Triwizard Tournament…"

The professor droned on, lecturing the class for the next hour – using her wand to create diagrams on the blackboard come to life. Harry and Elise along with the vast majority of the class scribbled down notes rapidly – Harry's sheet of paper soon filled with dates and regulations. It was only at the end of the lesson when Harry, massaging his pained wrist, noticed Draco's complete lack of notes.

"Why didn't you take notes?" Harry demanded before Draco shrugged.

"Didn't need to."

Elise groaned, "You know, I can't wait to watch your ego fall apart when it comes to time for exams."

Draco just laughed quietly as they walked out the door, walking down the crowded corridor before heading down a stairwell.

"What do you think Potions will be like?" Harry asked, receiving only a shrug from Draco in reply.

"Apparently, it's pretty fun. At least, that's what my mum said," Elise commented idly, peering over the heads of the other first years.

"I hope so. Reckon we'll finally get a desk we can all sit at?" Harry asked.

"Of course not, that would go against their conspiracy to separate each group into pairings," Draco said in an overly sweet tone that dripped with sarcasm.

Elise snorted with laughter, peering through the open door into the potions classroom.

"Seems like the right one," she said as she walked in, Draco and Harry following behind her as they found a table and sat around it much to the group's delight. Harry looked around the classroom as Elise pulled out her things, noticing that the dim classroom had vents at the top of the walls that steam and smoke was pulled through to somewhere else.

"Huh. You reckon there's a lot of accidents?" Harry asked, directing them all to follow his gaze.

"Probably, I've heard stories of some of the disasters of first year potions from my father," Draco said, before looking at the teacher with a craned neck around the cauldron that had silently materialized upon their desk.

"Quiet! Right. This is potions. If you hadn't figured that out already and had just followed the herd into this room, I'll advise you leave now, because I do not want any mistakes this lesson."

No one stood up, or even made a move, everyone paying attention to their teacher who had seemed to appear out of nowhere.

"Good. Now, listen closely, I will not repeat myself." The class leaned in closer, realizing that they could very easily lose track if they don't listen to her.

"Now, in other countries, they waste a lot of time covering the very basics of potions – types of cauldrons and vials, forms of preparation. We will not do this – potions, whilst maintaining a theoretical aspect is a highly practical subject. You cannot learn to cook by just reading from a book."

"Merlin, she goes on a fair bit doesn't she?" mutters Elise quietly to Harry and Draco who snickered before paying attention again.

"The English are the worst for this. The French – well, they're nearly as bad."

"Oh great. Racism," muttered Harry as Elise simply grinned evilly.

"Anyway! You are to brew a simple potion – A cure for boils. Once you think you are done, you are to test it on your assigned frog. You have one hour."

As she finished her sentence, their frogs appeared on the table – one for each of them – that were very much in a deep slumber, covered in disgusting boils, and alongside them was a veritable pile of ingredients.

It wasn't very surprising that it was Draco who immediately started organizing his ingredients, before pulling a piece of parchment out from his pocket to scribble down notes on.

"So you had parchment all along but just didn't want to use it for History of Magic?" Elise asked in confusion.

"I didn't need it for History of Magic," Draco corrected smugly, Elise just sighed, giving up on him and turning to her ingredients which she looked at in confusion whilst Harry and Draco separated theirs into neat sections – easy to find what they were looking for. As she looked around, she noted that they were among the only two to be doing so, the other being a very small blonde girl on the other side of the class.

She shrugged, and looked back at Harry who was already grinding six snake fangs into a fine dust.

"How'd you know how to do that?" she demanded, Harry just turned and gave her a shrug.

"Just a guess, why, am I not supposed to?" he said, confusion filling his tone.

"Um, I don't know, do you want me to get you a book?" she asked, Harry just shrugging before Draco chimed in.

"I think she'd be more impressed if we didn't need the book. If you get stuck, just ask me."

Elise paused, glancing at Draco suspiciously, "Are you alright, Malfoy? That seemed unusually kind of you."

"Only because we have transfiguration next," Harry sniggered, Draco cursing quietly under his breath.

"So, you're not being kind, you're just being manipulative. I guess you learnt well from your dad," Elise said with no shortage of venom.

Draco just shrugged, seeming to be paying more attention to the potion now than either Harry or Elise.

"You're gonna want to get going, Elise, or you'll fall behind," Harry commented, still at work on his potion.

"Oh, shut up, I know."

Harry watched as she rose from the desk and stalked to the front of the class to grab a potions textbook, only looking up to see the piercing eyes of the professor staring back at her, saying something before Elise stalked back to the desk furiously.

"What did she say?" Harry asked, looking up from his potion unlike Draco who just kept on going.

"Made fun of me for needing a book whilst you two don't."

"Huh. Just ignore it, only reason I know is memory. Draco too, but he won't admit that."

Draco snorted.

"Shut up Draco, don't try and lie," Harry said, snorting as he added crushed snake fangs to the cauldron four times, seeming just slightly behind Draco who was starting to heat up his cauldron.

"How much longer does this lesson go on?" she muttered quietly, opening "_Magical Drafts and Potions_" to the index page.

* * *

Harry and Elise watched Draco closely as he filled his vial with the potion, before peering at a particularly nasty boil on his toad's back, and dripping a few drops of potion on top of it. Elise smirked at first when nothing seemed to happen, but soon enough, the boil started to shrink, the red sheen surrounding it turning into the dark green of the rest of the back. Within two minutes, the process had finished, and Draco started applying the potion elsewhere as Harry finished off his own potion, giving a wave of his wand.

Draco soon picked up his toad, just as Harry was starting to apply his potion, and rushed to the front of the class, seeming paranoid that someone would steal his glory, and Harry found himself walking up behind him.

"Well done – Malfoy, was it? You're the onl- one of only two, it seems," she interrupted herself, eyeing up Harry before finishing, "to not resort to using a book."

Draco grinned, looking at Harry who presented his toad to the teacher who looked over it simply before nodding.

"I guess I have two new students joining my twilight class," she murmured, glancing at Elise who was still studiously working away at her potion, "It's a shame that your friend there isn't talented enough."

Harry bristled whilst Draco went quiet and shrugged.

"Miss…" Harry started,

"I'm professor Mulkavich, not miss," she cut over Harry, narrowing her eyes towards him.

"Professor, she's really talented – just give her a chance. She didn't expect to have to memorize a potion-"

"I am _not_ letting second-tier students into my twilight class, whatever your name is," she said with an air of authority.

"Well, I'm not going to bother going then," Harry said defiantly.

"Alright, suit yourself," the teacher responded, waving a hand as Draco, agape, simply watched Harry stride away back towards Elise to help her.

* * *

Harry lifted his foot up onto the bench as he finished off his sandwich, Draco and Elise still busying themselves with lunch.

He wasn't concerned about the fact he wouldn't be in twilight potions, after all it meant he had more time for his other subjects – it's not as if potions was actually of any importance to him.

"Now I'll be on my own in twilight potions," Draco moaned in between bites.

"Oh shut up – you could have done what Corvus did too," Elise said through a veneer of frustration.

"I want to do well in potions, and I'll do better if I'm in twilight," Draco said, pinching his brow.

"Well, Mr. I-want-to-do-well, you can forget about me helping you in transfiguration."

Harry gave a snicker as Draco just rolled his eyes, "Fine, you can forget my help in potions then."

"I don't need you, Corvus' just as good," she said snidely, smirking as Draco spluttered in outrage.

"I'm going to go send an owl to dad, I'll see you in transfiguration," Harry said, getting up and giving them a brief wave as he made his way to the owlery.

Harry was hit by the chill as he entered – the owlery was a room with only three walls that were covered in small roosts for the owls, the room open for the freezing cold air to blow in.

He sighed as he pulled out the letter that had been crumpled in his pocket since Sunday evening, glancing it over before writing "_To Sirius_" on the envelope and handing it to a small brown owl that was nestled in its nest comfortably.

The bird gave him a glare, as if questioning why Harry chose him of every owl, before ruffling its feathers and taking flight.

He gave a sigh as he watched it soar over the dark blue lake, his mind focused upon it until it was but a black speck in the distance.

"What are you looking at?" a familiar voice said from behind Harry, who jumped slightly before speaking.

"The owl," he answered, the other boy just squinting into the distance before nodding.

"I see it."  
Harry was impressed, arching a brow, "You've got good eyes."

"I have too, I play seeker," the boy said, as if this was explanation enough, leaving an awkward silence in the air until Harry decided to speak.

"I met you on my first morning here, but I never got your name, what is it?"

"I'm Viktor Krum." The boy seemed humble, but even Harry had heard of the Krums from the history books in Grimmauld Place – they were a very affluent and influential family in Bulgaria that had close ties to the royalty of the country.

"Huh. I'm Corvus Black," Harry said, extending his hand which Krum simply peered at for a moment before shrugging and shaking.

"Tell me, Corvus, do you like quidditch?" Krum asked, arching one of his thick brows.

"Yeah, I do, but I've never had a chance to play – why?"

Krum waved a hand, "We have an opening for a couple of seekers, and I want someone scrawny like you. A fast seeker, to go alongside Alex who's pretty strong. I'll be doing the trials in a month or two, Dimitri will be there too."

Harry blinked – he didn't even own a broom, let alone have any experience flying one, "Uh, I'll try and get down there, I'll need to… y'know, learn to fly."

Krum gave a brief smirk, "I'm certain that can be arranged - your friend Draco is a good flier I've heard, or so his father claims. He wrote to my father about it. If you want, I can help you both learn a bit more, and he can teach you the basics. I expect to see you at trials."

Harry was speechless as Krum turned to leave, before Harry asked loudly after him, "Why were you in the owlery?"

Krum shrugged as he spoke without looking back at Harry, "A few people are interested in you, Black."

* * *

Harry trudged into the transfiguration, a minute or two late – he had gotten lost amongst the crowds and forced to take the long way to the class. The teacher didn't seem to care – busy giving a lecture to the students who had arrived on time which included Draco and Elise who were seated on the second last row of the class, Harry taking the empty desk behind them.

"Where were you?" Draco asked, leaning backwards to talk to Harry.

"Ran into Krum, he was that kid we ran into on our first day here."

Draco blinked – clearly not knowing who Harry was talking about.

"Eh, he was saying that he had a couple of openings in his team. He knew who you were, your dad told him you were a good flier."

Draco smirked and tried to shrug in a false appearance of modesty, "I mean, I guess…"

Harry quickly cut over him before he could start boasting, "He wanted you to try and teach me how to fly. He said he'd help."

Draco paused, before raising his hands, "What the hell, it'll be fun, we can go down in a couple of weeks when they open up the pitch," he said non-committedly.

"How'd you know when they're opening up the pitch?" Harry asked, arching a brow in curiosity.

"He made us go check at lunch when you went to the owlery. He made me do the talking," Elise chimed in, flicking a lock of hair away from her face as she glanced back at Harry.

"Has anything happened in the lesson anyway?" Harry asked, leaning forwards slightly.

"Not really, just talking about the fact we'll be learning the theory of transfiguration next lesson and to pay close attention in it," Elise said.

"So, basically, 'I'm_ going to teach you to be taught by the other person,_'" Harry commented, sniggering quietly.

"Pretty much," Draco agreed.

Elise gave a sigh of frustration, although Harry didn't know if it was because of him and Draco or the lazy teacher that he decided to pay a bit more attention to now that they had reached a lapse in the conversation.

The teacher was a tall male with a receding hairline that only exposed more of his incredibly pale skin, standing in front of a blackboard with what Harry could only assume to be his name inscribed upon it in white chalk.

"Novatch? Where's that name from?" Harry asked, confused,

"I think he's Russian," Draco commented whilst Elise just shrugged.

"Does it matter? I want to know what we have to do, shut up," she said as she leant forwards.

The first thing Harry noted about the teacher's words were how slow and lazy they were – as if he were explaining the idea to a dog.

"You must understand the transformation formula which Dimitri shall be teaching you next lesson. However, we will be trying to do some very simple transfiguration work – a matchstick into a needle. If you can already do this, move onto another spell. You may begin," Professor Novatch said with a wave of his hand.

Elise grinned, flicking her wand and muttering the spell turning the matchstick very pointy – sharp enough that it looked like it could do some serious damage.

Harry shrugged – he'd read about the theory behind this before and went to cast the same spell on his own match with a flick, muttering the incantation under his breath.

The matchstick turned sharp – but not smoothly, it was jagged, as if he had taken a razor to it, and Harry frowned, looking to see if Draco was facing the same difficulty only to find Draco was struggling to make his match do anything other than roll around on the desk.

"Done," Elise stated, rolling her shoulders slightly as she picked the silver needle up in her spare hand.

"Great, mind showing me how you got it so smooth?" Harry asked, peering at her wand movement as she turned around and demonstrated the spell before correcting his own.

"When you're done admiring Corvus' wand, mind helping me?" Draco asked.

"I don't think I will, actually, with your scheming and taking the teacher's side last lesson," Elise said in an overly sweet tone.

Draco's jaw dropped as Harry started to snigger loudly.

"That's so petty!" Draco said loudly, drawing the attention of the ginger girl a couple of rows away.

"To be fair, you were kind of asking for it," Harry said, grinning widely as he tapped his matchstick and turned it a dull metallic colour.

"Shut up Corvus," Draco said, his face turning red as he started flicking his wand more vigorously in an attempt to turn his matchstick into a needle.

It wasn't long until Elise's wild success and Draco's furious failures drew the attention of the teacher who swooped over to examine Elise's handiwork.

"And how long did you say this took you? A minute? Very well done – this is the best attempt I've seen in years. Can you do anything else?"

Elise hesitated, before answering the teacher's question, "I can perform – well, sort of perform – a switching spell."

The teacher smiled thinly, arching a brow in curiosity, "Well, go on then. Show us. Switch the needle with – how about a pencil?"

She nodded, and nervously performed the spell with a flourish, leaving behind what looked like a silver pencil.

"That was good. Most students here cannot do that until their third or fourth year. You must attend twilight class – and you, boy, can you do the same? I see you made your needle too, if, a little less impressive."

Harry shrugged, "I've read about it."

The teacher gave an encouraging wave of his hand, "Try!"

Harry obeyed, giving a quick flourish over his matchstick, resulting in half a pencil forming.

The teacher gave a nod, "Well, both of you can come along, I suppose. I'll have to keep an eye on you both," he said before leaving, ignoring Malfoy who was looking increasingly despondent by the minute.

"You know, it's almost like we're in a pattern here," Harry noted.

Elise just gave a shrug, before relenting.

"Alright, fine, I'll help you Malfoy, but you owe me one."

Draco looked the most relieved he had all day.

* * *

It was with tired eyes and dragged heels that they walked into the classroom that was more like their dark arts class in that it was essentially a hall, yet this one seemed to have had a few desks conjured in.

"Guess this teacher got tired of having to look up to his students," Harry commented idly to Elise as they walked through the doors.

"Half right," commented a young man with a defined jawline and dark messy hair that was cut short. Elise's eyes widened at the sight of him, whilst Harry and Draco's scanned over his scarred face.

"What? Did I surprise you?" the man chuckled, before a voice resounded from just behind Harry,

"You can't be our teacher! You must be, what, twenty five?"

"Why, thank you, I'm actually twenty eight. Now, would you mind sitting down?"

Draco snickered as he went to a wide desk with Harry and Elise who was still watching their teacher closely.

"If you're all settled then I'll start. My name is Dimitri Korzak. I am your teacher of magical theory."

"I know you!" shouted a boy from the back, interrupting their teacher, "You're in the trophy hall! You have three awards for duelling! Why aren't you teaching us the dark arts?"

Harry sighed, he could tell that having a young teacher was going to make their class significantly more rowdy.

Or so, he thought he knew – as soon as the boy had finished yelling he was hoisted up into the air by his ankle screaming.

"I will not tolerate being interrupted in my class," Dimitri said loudly over the boy's screaming, looking directly at the class, his voice calm and steady before he flicked his wand again and the kid dropping onto his back and breaking the chair, being left groaning before a boy nearby fixed his chair for him.

"Now! Can anyone care to tell me what is the most theoretical of the magical classes? We are ignoring potions here, of course."

Nobody dared raise their hand.

"Transfiguration, you are right silent student! So, we shall be learning about the theory behind transfiguration first of all!"

A fair portion of the class groaned, including Harry – although he was groaning for different reasons, he suspected, as he had already read the theory multiple times whilst he was growing up with nothing else to do.

It was why he and Elise kept drawing the attention of Dimitri as he explained the concepts, writing the diagrams and notes they needed in fire in the air.

It was only after ten minutes when they had been set some theoretical tasks to do which Harry and Elise completed rapidly that he approached them.

"Are you two done already?"

Harry nodded along with Elise who was slightly more eager in her actions.

"Impressive – I guess you two read a lot." Harry was surprised – the way the teacher spoke those words made it seem like it was almost a bad thing to read a lot.

"Well, I didn't have much choice, I'm Corvus Black," Harry said, as if that was explanation enough – and seemingly, it was. The teacher gave a nod.

"And you – what's your name?" he asked, looking at Elise.

"Um. Elise Vulchanova," she said nervously, Draco's voice following immediately afterwards.

"I'm Draco Malfoy – I've done, what do I do now?"

Dimitri gave a snicker, "Quite the all-star cast isn't it? Malfoy, Black and Vulchanova. And you can make a head start on an essay on the theory I've taught you today. Anyway – funnily enough, I've heard about all three of you today from your other teachers. Especially about you two," he said, looking at Draco and Harry.

"Us? Why?" Harry asked, whilst Draco seemed content about the fact he'd made an impact, whilst Elise smiled faintly for her friends.

"Well, you hospitalized a boy in your first duel and lesson, and then Malfoy managed to beat you protecting your friend's honour. They all seem to think I should be told about any promising duellists after my career. Honestly, it gets a bit tedious, but useful to know. I imagine you'll both be going to the duelling club tomorrow?"

"I'll be going too," Elise said as Harry and Draco nodded.

"I might see you there – on the first meeting of every year two staff members duel, and everyone challenges me. Undefeated so far, but you never know. At least you get a good show out of it, eh?"

"Maybe one day you'll duel me and I'll break that undefeated record," Draco said with a smug grin.

Dimitri laughed, finding the idea hilarious – Draco however seemed to have been serious and scowled.

"Sure. Maybe when I'm a corpse. If you want, I can take you aside tomorrow and teach you three some stuff. We'll see. Anyway, get started on that essay."

Harry put his head down, obeying and started to work on the essay with a smile etched upon his face.

**2****nd**** September, 1991, Hogwarts**

The sun had set over the grounds as Dumbledore watched the fireplace patiently, awaiting his friend Lupin's arrival.

It had been with some urgency that he had requested both Lupin and Snape's presence – citing the fact that he had just received a reply from Karkaroff about Corvus Black. It had surprised him, he had not expected such a rapid response, but having read it over it seemed that Karkaroff was quite interested in Black himself.

Black had apparently excelled in almost every subject on his first day, impressing his teachers as well as developing a friendship with two other children of prestigious houses – Malfoy, and Vulchanova.

He had to admit that a friendship with Malfoy concerned him – whether it was Sirius' son or James' it was not a good idea for such an important child to become close to such a dark family.

Then again – that would be quite judgemental of him. Not every child followed their father's steps.

His thoughts were interrupted by a roar of green flame.

"I'm sorry I'm a bit late – where's Snape?" Lupin asked as he brushed himself down.

"He said he'd arrive after you, so I imagine any moment now," Dumbledore replied as he waved a hand, a leather armchair pulling itself out for Lupin.

There was silence as Lupin sat down, both of them waiting on Snape. Dumbledore liked to think that Lupin and Snape had grown closer because of the hunt for Harry – abandoning their petty rivalry as children that James and Sirius had initiated.

Indeed, the fact that when Snape arrived in a dramatic Lupin stayed seated helped point to his theory's truth – bringing a smile to his face.

"I'll take the liberty of presuming that it is good news, then, that brings me to this office at such an ungodly hour as this?"

"Come now, Severus, it's not yet gone midnight," Remus chided softly.

"And you are correct, my friend, or at least you are close," Dumbledore commented looking at Severus who was seating himself next to Remus.

Severus arched a brow, Remus' attention also returning to Dumbledore.

"Karkaroff wrote back – he seemed quite excited about Black. Read for yourself." Dumbledore pushed the letter across the desk towards them, leaving them to read in their own time.

"A partial switching spell on his first day, incredible," Remus murmured, Severus jerking his head in agreement.

"I admit, even I am impressed – but what of this friendship with the Malfoy's son? I've met Draco and he isn't exactly ashamed of his parent's acts. Proud, more like,"

Dumbledore frowned as Snape confirmed his worst fears, "Well, if it is Sirius' son, it is to be expected if still less pleasurable news. If it is Harry, then we need to identify why – and try to discourage this friendship."

"How?" asked Remus simply, "Karkaroff is excited that they are friends, and we have no contacts within Durmstrang."

Severus hesitated, glancing at Dumbledore who shook his head gently, "You would be wrong there, Remus. We do, indeed, have a contact of sorts – I am in contact with Miss Vulchanova's mother, who appears to be Harry's friend."

Severus asked the question that had been weighing on Dumbledore's mind since the idea had been sparked, "If you contact this '_Elise_' through her mother out of the blue, then questions will be raised, and we do not know if the mother would comply."

Remus nodded in agreement with Severus, before Dumbledore shrugged.

"I believe that Miss Vulchanova would not be fond of Malfoy anyway, so there may arise complications there. However, I may strike up more casual communication with her mother, if Black heads to their residence at some point, I can use that as a point of interest. We may learn something from that," Dumbledore said, prompting a nod from Remus.

"It makes sense – Sirius stayed with James after he ran away, and I visited a few times."

"Then it is decided. Out of curiosity, how did Karkaroff respond so quickly?" Severus asked in a tone of suspicion.

Dumbledore's eyes twinkled as Fawkes let out a soft cry from his perch.


	4. Chapter 4

**3****rd**** September, 1991, Durmstrang Institute**

As lessons ended, Harry groaned, "Who knew transfiguration last lesson could give you such a headache?"

Draco raised his hand lazily as Elise made a tutting noise, "If you hadn't spent the lesson trying to cast charms on Draco's stuff you'd probably feel better."

"What? How would that make me feel better?"

"That's girl for '_I'm annoyed with you_', Corvus," Draco said slyly.

"Hey, Draco's right about something for once," Elise said dryly.

"What's the problem, Elise? That time of the mon-"Draco was interrupted by Harry who placed his hand over his mouth quickly, Elise just stopping, turning and glaring at them both before speaking quietly, "Draco, shut up."

Draco shut up.

As they walked in silence, Harry fiddled with his aspen wand in between his fingers in nervous anticipation – whilst part of him was excited by the prospect of seeing Dimitri in action, another part was scared.

Oddly enough though – he didn't fear getting hurt, but the idea of losing terrified him. Even though there were often ten, twelve duels on at any one time, the idea of being humiliated was enough to set his teeth on edge.

He gave a sigh eventually as they neared the way into their usual dark arts room – except now it was filled with students of all ages who surrounded a long, raised platform that two teachers stood upon – one instantly recognizable as Dimitri who was dressed in plain black clothes facing the doorway, a sleek black and silver wand in his right hand.

Opposite him was their transfiguration teacher – dressed as if he had just come from his lesson, his thick brows furrowed in a show of determination.

"Gather up!" yelled an instantly recognizable voice, their defence teacher Alexi Nokarl.

A few of the first years looked around for him – but he could not be seen. At least, not until they moved closer to the stage where he slowly faded into view.

"Huh," muttered Harry as he leaned in and out, observing the effect with curiosity before standing still whilst the flamboyant teacher started to yell again.

"Now, I know you've all been simply _dying_ to get back to the club, but we have to teach the young ones a little first!"

This elicited a series of groans from some of the older students that towered over the first years.

"Now, I hope you all know a little maths because how this system works relies on it! Though not to fear, a bit of brilliant magic does it for you when you're actually busy duelling."

Draco breathed a sigh of relief before Alexi carried on.

"If you duel a fellow duellist with the same rating or higher, you will gain rating equivalent to theirs divided by twenty. Since all you adorable children start with one thousand rating, this means that if you beat a more senior duellist at two thousand rating, you'd gain a hundred rating! Thus, you are rewarded for daring to challenge such seniority!"

It surprised Harry how much the professor clad in gay clothing could talk in a single breath – it was certainly a talent. Or, perhaps it was magic. Harry was uncertain as to which it was exactly.

"However! We do not reward a lack of ambition. If you try and duel an opponent with lower rating than you, you can only gain _ten_ rating. And even then, that's only if they're within a range of three hundred rating below you!"

Harry saw Draco visibly grimace, as if he had just been shot – and Harry knew that it was because his idea of rising to the top with little effort had been dashed. He didn't really have any sympathy for Draco.

"Now, upon your first sanctioned duel you will be given an insignia that displays your rating. These will be made so that only you can pick them up – anyone else who tries will be temporarily paralyzed. Are we understood? Yes? Brilliant! Let's get on with the staff duel to start the season!"

He nodded to both Professor Dimitri and Professor Hans who simply ran a hand through his beard.

Then he vanished and the two walked forwards, bowing and raising their wands.

(+)

There was no countdown, only the immediate blinding flash of red light from Hans' wand that exploded against a silvery shield that erupted from Dimitri's wand which he wielded like a rapier, jabbing forwards and sending out lashes of blue light before twisting and slashing sharply.

The effect was instantaneous – the room exploded in an array of bright lights and fireworks, making it incredibly difficult to see.

Hans wasn't deterred and conjured a table that he sent flying towards Dimitri at a fatal speed.

Except Dimitri wasn't there, he was now behind Hans who twisted in surprise, barely managing to get off a shield in time before sending a pulse of kinetic energy back towards Dimitri who stumbled on his left leg.

There was a gasp from the audience as a jagged purple lightning bolt struck forwards towards the kneeling teacher, arcing purple beams creating an electric buzz in the air as they collided with a shield around the stage.

The crowd was left breathless as the vulnerable Dimitri simply batted away the bolt with his wand sending it cascading against the shield protecting the students.

There was a pause in the combat – Hans simply staring at Dimitri in a mixture of surprise and outrage. Dimitri rose coolly before attacking in a sharp series of twists, slashes and stabs that sent bolts towards Hans, all of them missing.

It was almost as if Dimitri had been injured – yet he showed no sign of exhaustion. In fact, now that Harry looked closer he could see a slight haze surrounding his teacher.

And that was when Hans realized as well, as Dimitri dissipated into crimson mist and an ear splitting sonic blast collided against the bearded teacher's shield which caused the noise to reverberate further throughout the chamber.

Harry watched as the two breathed heavily, before Hans waved his wand and sent three tables set against the edges of the room flying towards Dimitri who created a spiralling motion with his wand over his head which tore the tables apart into thousands of wooden splinters that swirled around Dimitri like a hurricane. Harry heard a low murmur from Dimitri as Hans started to prepare his next attack.

"_Incendio_."

The wooden splinters caught alight, creating a fire storm around Dimitri who pointed his wand forwards towards Hans who raised his wand and readied himself.

Harry felt the chill before he saw it – a solid wall of ice forming in front of the charms professor as the inferno slammed into it and fizzled out – but not before turning the wall of ice to a wet, slippery mess upon the stand, separating Dimitri and Hans from one another.

"_Ruptura_!" roared Hans, lunging forwards as a sickly yellow curse flew out and was flicked away by Dimitri who was gritting his teeth in concentration.

Hans sent off a multitude of curses, stunning spells, and attempts to petrify and set fire to Dimitri who would stand strong, never ceasing his wand's movements as he sent them back at Hans aimlessly. Hans was not deterred, and raised his wand again as he went to yell out yet another curse for Dimitri.

But Dimitri was faster, and sent off a red bolt towards Hans who was unable to react and was knocked unconscious, being sent flying off of the stage and onto his back.

Dimitri grimaced as he bowed.

(+)

"And we have our winner! For the third year running!" yelled out Alexi who jumped up onto the stage, cleaning up the mess left behind with a single wave of his wand.

Dimitri just walked over to a recovering Hans who he helped up, exchanging words with him out of ear shot of Harry and the other students. It wasn't until a few moments later that he realized he hadn't breathed in about a minute and exhaled loudly.

"That was terrifying," muttered Elise next to him, before Draco whispered in response.

"Terrifying? That was bloody amazing."

Harry just nodded – in agreement with both of them. It really struck him now the difference between the teachers and the students, and thought of his dad – who had been an auror during the war, and whether he was capable of the same feats.

**3****rd**** September, 1991, 12 Grimmauld Place**

Sirius gave a sigh as he sipped his brandy, his feet propped up on the table with a newspaper in his lap.

'_Malfoy Heir sent to Durmstrang_' was the front page headline on the Daily Prophet, an article by Rita Skeeter. He had skimmed over it – and found it lacking, as he usually did with Rita's articles. The article was near completely speculation with the only actual fact present being the fact that Draco Malfoy had, indeed, been sent to Durmstrang.

Sirius grimaced – the idea of Harry becoming such close friends with the child of a dark family still gave him unease. As much as he knew it was hypocritical, he couldn't help his reaction.

But, on the other hand – he understood that Harry was James' son. James, who had decided to befriend the child of a dark family, who had never once abandoned Sirius.

He wouldn't try and argue Harry against it – he knew that would be wrong, and he could almost hear Lupin's proud voice echoing through his head, "_See? You're becoming less reckless with age._"

He shook his head and groaned. He missed his friend – he had not seen Lupin in over ten years.

It filled him with a feeling of intense guilt – as he so often felt when he thought of his friends. It was his fault that James had died, after all.

It had been him who had told him to make _Pettigrew_ the secret keeper.

_But,_ Sirius mused, _I'm paying the punishment now_.

It didn't help rid him of the guilt though – if anything it just made him angrier, filled him with a rage that could not be satisfied without blood.

But, he had other responsibilities now.

He reflected on that – Harry was getting along brilliantly at Durmstrang, he seemed to possess Lily's brilliant intellect, and James' ingenuity.

And, if the mention of an '_Elise_' was anything to go by, his own trait of attracting women.

_That little scamp_, Sirius thought in bemusement, his thoughts lightening.

Those thoughts, however, were interrupted by the opening of a door.

Sirius' breath caught in his throat, drawing out his wand swiftly but silently as he was cautious to stand up without causing the floor boards to creak, aiming his wand towards the door which he proceeded to slowly advance towards.

The sound of footsteps continued – seeming to head towards the kitchen. Sirius slowly edged open the door and glanced down the landing before moving out, worried that the sound of his beating heart would give him away.

He glanced over the railing, seeing nothing below the landing, and hearing only the sound of a chair being pulled out. Tentatively, he went to the stairs and began advancing down, wincing at each miniscule creak.

His instincts were well honed even after ten years – the auror training had ironed in a sense of constant vigilance to him, so much so that he would have to check around a corner before walking past it.

It was the skill he exercised when he looked down the hallway into the kitchen, and the subsequent vulnerability he felt at being stuck in a corridor with nowhere to hide if he was attacked from the kitchen which he walked towards.

As he strode in, he was surprised by who was standing at the counter looking through his stuff, but didn't hesitate to point his wand at her anyway.

"No sudden movements, Narcissa."

The blonde witched turned around slowly to face Sirius who's eyes were not hiding his surprise.

"Can I sit down?"

* * *

Sirius grumbled, twirling his wand between his fingers as they both sat with a mug of tea.

"So, for the past ten years, you and Corvus have been here?" Narcissa said, her thin lips pressed together tightly.

"Yes, I put protective spells up – Phineas cannot hear nor see anything that happened after ten years ago – basically just seeing the old abandoned house still. And no wizard, witch or even muggle can get close to the house without feeling an overwhelming sense of dizziness and sickness. And the door cannot be opened by anyone but me and Corvus," Sirius paused for a moment after saying this before continuing, "Or, apparently, anyone closely related to me."

Narcissa raised an eyebrow inquisitively.

"I used my blood for the spell, and a bit of Corvus', so I guess because you're my cousin, your blood was close enough to get in."

Sirius went silent for a moment, before Narcissa spoke up.

"Sounds like some very sloppy spellwork. You're very lucky no one else has figured to come here," she said cuttingly.

Sirius just shrugged, "It's hardly as if I'd let them leave if they did."

"And if it was Dumbledore?"

"I'd kind of bet on the idea that he wouldn't be coming here himself,"

"You are just as I remember Sirius, constantly taking risks that not only endanger yourself but others too."

Sirius's eyes narrowed as he looked up from his tea.

"Why are you here, Cissy?" he asked venomously.

She flinched, "I thought you'd be here."

"Bullshit, you'd have come sooner if you had. What did you want?" Sirius laid his palms flat on the table, just staring at Narcissa who shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

"Lucius was talking about your son, and it made me realize where you'd be. It's the truth, Sirius."

Sirius knew why she didn't bother saying '_trust me_', and simply stared at her a moment longer, before grumbling to himself, "Fine. Why did you want to see me? You've never expressed any desire before."

She hesitated a moment, sipping from her tea before looking at Sirius and putting it down, "Our children. They're friends."

Sirius didn't bother denying it, "And?"

Narcissa paused, pursing her lips before continuing, "As their parents, we should encourage that friendship. Allow it to blossom."

"Why? If they're friends, they'll be friends despite their parent's feelings," Sirius said, rhythmically tapping his fingers upon the table.

"That doesn't mean we shouldn't encourage it. Be reasonable, Sirius, there's benefits for you too."

Sirius arched a brow in curiosity.

"I imagine you'd want to get out of the house, yes? If Corvus visits us with Draco for the winter, you can both get out of the house and they'll spend some time together. You haven't given your son much of a childhood, let him have this," Narcissa's voice was passionate and pleading, but without weakness.

Sirius didn't reply for a minute, and then another. It was only after three minutes of silence did he nod faintly.

"How will we get to your house?" he asked, aware of every risk that could befall them should the Malfoys betray them. For all he knew, it was a trap. But one that he'd be willing to take for Harry.

"Well, we'll just take Corvus with us after he gets off the ship – there won't be many, if anybody there to see. The docks are deserted unlike platform nine and three quarters. As for you…"

Narcissa trailed off in thought.

"Don't worry, I'll get there undetected."

Narcissa raised a brow herself this time, her blue eyes shining in the light.

"I have my methods, Narcissa. Don't you worry that pretty little head of yours."

Narcissa scowled lightly before smirking slightly, "You know, Sirius, you do need friends in this world still. Remus abandoned you, and James, well…"

She didn't get to finish her sentence before Sirius had slammed his hands down on the table, sending tea across the wooden tabletop.

"Don't you _dare_, Cissy. You don't have the right to talk of them, and Remus just doesn't understand."

As he mentioned Remus, his voice faltered slightly. Even Narcissa couldn't help but wince in sympathy.

"I'm sorry, Sirius," she said quietly, giving one last glance to the man whose head was resting upon the wet table top.

Sirius didn't hear her closing the door behind her as she left.

**3****rd**** September, 1991, Malfoy Manor**

Lucius nodded briefly to his wife who walked into his study quietly, before frowning and turning around when he did not receive a greeting.

"What's wrong?" he asked simply, peering up at her.

"Sirius agreed, but I angered him when I left," she replied simply, distantly – as if lost in a faraway thought.

"So?" Lucius said, confused by why his wife cared so much.

"It was just… wrong, Lucius. Seeing a man like that - he's lost everything. His friends, his family. All he has left is his son."

Lucius considered this, "He's protective of Corvus, isn't he? It's him clinging to what he once had. Family, and friendship."

Narcissa nodded in agreement, "It's sad."

"It's weak," replied Lucius.

His wife didn't disagree, but left him in peace. He turned around again, looking back over the papers in front of him – some were from Draco, others from correspondents in France, and one from Gringotts.

Draco had declined to ask Corvus to come stay with them, saying that "He wouldn't accept, he's too close to his dad."

Lucius had made certain that was no longer an issue, and would write to Draco of what had developed.

The correspondents in France had simply mailed him a list of all pureblood women with green eyes in France from eleven years ago. The number was startlingly low, but one of them was now deceased, meaning that even if none of the others had been with Sirius Black, it was impossible to confirm that the dead one did not. It was a dead end.

However, his letter to Gringrotts had proven fruitful. They had informed him of the fact that Corvus Black was added onto the Black inheritance list on the date of July 31st – this year.

It was curious that he was added on so late – and on the day of Harry Potter's birthday.

Interesting information had come at a hefty cost though – goblins were not easily bribed.

But Lucius usually came off with the reward when it came to risky moves.

And so, he pulled out his ink and quill and started to write to Draco of the recent developments.

**29****th**** October, 1991, Durmstrang Institute**

Harry groaned – his muscles still ached from the night before where Draco and he had been practicing quidditch all night, and in the evening he had been practicing his duelling with Dimitri.

He still forced himself out of bed, however – it being a Tuesday meant he still had lessons in the morning, and a trial session for the Red Team with Dimitri and Krum. He and Draco were auditioning for the roles of Chasers, which Harry had seemed to have a natural flair for – him and Draco on an even playing field already.

Krum had helped a few times – but his training was hard and it never gave Harry or Draco a chance to really talk to him.

He rolled his shoulders which clicked loudly, and advanced into the showers and prepared himself for the day.

The day went quickly, even transfiguration kept him absorbed to the very end, having been learning with Elise, Draco and a couple of other advanced students – Alistair and Sara – the _Avifors_ spell. Only Elise had gotten it pegged down, although Harry was very close behind, getting it on nine out of ten times.

Draco, predictably, was hopeless with the spell.

And it was Draco who spoke first as all three sat in Harry's bedroom.

"I feel sick," he muttered, glancing out the window that was pelted with heavy rain that constantly threatened to shatter the window.

"It's just nerves, Draco. Honestly, I'm glad you're feeling them – shows that you're not half the smug ass you act," Elise commented with a smirk as she practiced her wand work silently.

Draco just groaned loudly as Harry snickered slightly despite his own churning stomach before a pervasive silence occupied the room.

Eventually, Harry got up and stretched slightly, before heading to the door, "I'm going to go to the pitch, there's no point waiting around any longer."

He rubbed his glasses as he exited the door, but he didn't hear it shut until the sound of footsteps caught up with him.

* * *

The pitch was occupied by a selection of older, taller boys and girls. Some were wearing an actual quidditch kit, others were just in their day wear. And stood to the side alongside Krum was Harry's teacher, Dimitri, who was peering at him curiously as Krum talked in hushed tones to him.

He felt out of place – a number of the other students had their own brooms, whilst Harry just picked up one of the spares lying around.

"Are all these people just here for the chaser positions?" Elise asked, seeming just as surprised as Harry at the turnout.

"I guess," muttered Draco, who looked a shade paler than usual.

"Alright, gather up!" yelled Krum, his voice carrying over the soft murmurs of the gathered hopefuls, "Today, we'll not be doing a practice game – that kind of experience comes later. Besides, Alex forgot to wake up in time today." They all laughed quietly, traces of anxiety could be heard from the crowd however – they were all just as nervous as one another.

"We'll be running some basic games – catching and throwing, shooting against a keeper, and dodging," As soon as he had finished speaking, various members of the crowd moved out – Harry just now recognizing red insignias upon their quidditch kit. They opened up chests, and threw out a fair few quaffles as a couple of bludgers shot out into the air only to be caught somehow by the two beaters.

Harry gulped loudly – Draco and he had only really played with the quaffle and snitch. Krum had set bludgers at them once, and it had ended up in a night in the hospital.

He shook his head though, and willed himself to keep watching and not run away.

Krum called out two names first, and two third year boys stepped up, mounted their brooms and flew up.

What they did was simple – playing throwing and catching games, shooting at and past a keeper. It looked easy from the ground, but Harry knew that it would be very different up in the air.

"Hit them," Krum said, and a moment later a large boy in quidditch uniform pulled out a bludger from somewhere and sent it flying towards the boys.

One weaved above and around it, but the other was too slow. There was a sickening crunch as he fell from the skies, before his descent slowed and he gently landed on the grass.

"I guess that means only one of those two will be considered then," Krum said dryly.

Dimitri just nodded, his arms still folded across his chest, and Harry gulped.

"Um. Draco, mind giving me a heads up if you hear or see the bludger coming?" Harry asked quietly.

"Only if you do as well," he replied in a similarly quiet voice.

It was a long, anxious wait for their turn, not being until everyone else had either been carried away or flown down to wait for the news.

"Corvus Black, Draco Malfoy," intoned Krum, causing everyone gathered to look at the two comparatively scrawny first years.

"Good luck," whispered Elise.

They mounted their brooms and kicked off simultaneously and Harry felt the surge of relief, as if he weighed nothing, rush through his body, his brow's creases easing out.

He laughed loudly at the sudden change – feeling almost light headed from it. He did a quick loop around Draco, his body leaning forwards, pressing against the handle of the broom as he accelerated.

"Right, you two, for this task all you have to do is catch the balls we throw to you, and pass it along to your partner, then back to us. The more balls you go through, the more points you'll score, ready?" Harry nodded to the broad boy who had been playing keeper.

There was a pause, before the keeper yelled "Ready!" and threw the first ball to Draco who caught it deftly.

Harry almost missed catching the ball thrown to him because he was watching Draco, catching it by his fingertips. However, he threw his ball to Draco whose own ball was spinning through the air to Harry who caught it confidently.

"Speed it up!" Harry yelled, receiving a nod of agreement from Draco who started throwing the ball to Harry as soon as he got them. It was easy to note Harry's lack of experience next to Draco, being slightly slower and his reactions more dull.

Yet, despite that, the speed of their exchange was staggering – as if their synapses were in sync. And then Harry saw it coming – a bludger hurtling towards his head at a speed he knew he would be unable to dodge.

He did the only thing he could – he threw the quaffle he had caught straight at the bludger, his aim on point. They crashed into one another, resonating a loud crack throughout the grounds. The blow sent the bludger spiralling to the ground along with the quaffle Draco had thrown towards Harry immediately afterwards.

"Corvus! Don't stop! Keep going!" Draco yelled out at him, throwing another quaffle towards him.

Harry caught it, grimacing, and threw it back towards one of the quidditch members who caught it nimbly.

But it was the last throw, as a loud, clear voice rang out once again, but this time from the three hoops behind Draco and Harry.

"Now, we have a simpler task – simply shoot past me, you have five shots each."

Harry felt almost let down – there was little flying involved so far, mostly hovering and catching or throwing the quaffle. It had made his legs and rear sore, throbbing like a dead arm.

"Is that it?" Harry asked, but his voice did not carry over the wind like the keeper's.

"Malfoy! You're up!"

Harry watched as Malfoy went up, analysing what he did closely – noting that Draco would often go for the feint first to trick the keeper, before throwing to the direction hardest to reach for the keeper, before alternating his strategy on the third to throw in the same initial direction he faked.

But Draco got cocky – and on his fourth throw, the keeper caught it comfortably in one hand.

Draco hesitated before looking back towards Harry who nodded once.

He threw the ball – sending it hurtling just under the keeper who was slightly too slow in his attempt to swing around.

There was a moment of hesitation, before Draco smirked and flew past Harry to the ground where Elise jogged over to him. Harry wanted to fly down and be with his friends, but he knew he had a responsibility to finish off the trial.

"Black! Your turn!"

Harry flew over, positioning himself in front of the rings, catching the quaffle thrown to him by Krum who had silently rose up to watch Harry's progress himself, causing his confidence to waver – he didn't want to screw up in front of Krum.

He swallowed his fear down though, and threw the ball to the right most ring as fast as he could – only to see the keeper dart over and kick it away from the hoops he was defending.

Krum shook his head, and Harry's temper flared.

The next ball he threw was faster than before – and it curved just enough to scrape past the fingertips of the keeper and through the hoop behind him.

This time, Krum didn't do anything but fold his arms, and Harry knew that he wanted more – one just wasn't good enough.

Harry darted forwards with the ball in hand, one hand on the broom handle which he clutched tightly as he feinted throwing the ball towards the centre ring before flicking it towards the right most ring.

The keeper reeled – changing direction mid-course and being left confused before moving back to the centre ring – barely having time to react to the next ball thrown in rapid succession by Harry, the ball knocking the unsteady arm aside as it bounced against the edge of the hoop before travelling through to the other side.

Harry flew away from the hoops again, his messy black hair billowing in the wind behind him, catching the last ball – a smile growing alongside his confidence.

But he knew that it wasn't done yet. He knew another feint wouldn't work, but had no clue of what else to do.

So he simply threw it at the left hoop and watched it be batted aside by the keeper. Harry's smile vanished as he descended back towards the ground.

"Good job, Corvus," Elise said, walking over to him, Draco at her side. Harry's eyes narrowed slightly, searching for any trace of mockery, but only saw sincerity.

"Thanks," he grumbled in response, going to lean on her shoulder. He wasn't too physically tired – it wasn't exactly hard work. But he felt emotionally drained, he had spent the last few months preparing for this and he didn't stand out at all.

But, he thought, the others had prepared for months as well, he should be proud he could have competed with them.

That fact did nothing to sate the hunger for success in the pit of his stomach.

* * *

Krum and Dimitri started moving towards the group, and everyone stiffened. There was no sense of ill will, but nobody wanted to hear anyone's name but their own.

"We've come to a decision," Dimitri announced loudly, as if he were giving a lecture in his classroom, "We believe that whilst some individual efforts were more impressive than others, they lacked a central chemistry that we have been searching for and found in one pairing."

There was a pause, before Krum spoke.

"Draco Malfoy, Corvus Black."

There were instantaneous mutterings – and none of it sounded good.

"However, we would also like to offer reserve spots to Karkus Teneris, and James Kreak," Krum said without a trace of emotion.

"What about the third spot?!" shouted out a very well built boy with brown hair.

"The third spot was given beforehand to a returning member," Krum answered calmly.

"That's such horseshit!" yelled out the boy,

"James, you will either accept our decision, or you will forfeit your reserve position. Is that understood?" Krum said with a steady voice, though he made no effort to hide his threat.

The boy said nothing more, simply glaring at Harry and Draco venomously.

Harry just felt numb – watching Krum emptily as Draco nodded.

"Corvus and Draco, stay behind to talk with us," Dimitri requested quietly.

Elise hesitated, glancing at Dimitri.

He sighed and gave a roll of his eyes, "You can stay too, Elise."

As the rest of the aspirants departed, the three of them shuffled over towards Krum and Dimitri.

"So, you two managed to scrape it onto the team. It was close – Viktor was against the decision."

Harry looked to Krum who shrugged idly, "Your teamwork is brilliant, but as for individual skill, you're lacking."

Feeling stung, Harry frowned – he knew it was silly, getting onto the team at all was amazing, and Krum was right.

"Anyway, I overruled him – partially because of the Red team's rules, which I doubt you two will be aware of. Elise, mind informing them?"

She shuffled her feet slightly, before speaking slowly, "Since Dimitri took over, he started enforcing the rule that in order to be a part of the Red Team, you must be a high achieving academic student."

"Basically, it means that the best, and most hard working students are on my team," Dimitri said, "You two are undeniably two of the best students in your year, and you're already excelling in the duelling club. What's your rating right now, Corvus?"

Harry flushed quietly, "One thousand, six hundred and fifty. Unbeaten so far,"

Krum whistled sharply, "That's impressive. If you get to two thousand by Christmas, you'll be on par with Grindelwald's record – probably the only good thing he had a hand in."

"That is a point though – you missed the duelling club today for this. You won't have to worry about that again, training is on Sundays, Wednesday, usually. Fridays as well in the week before a game – those are on Saturdays starting from February," Dimitri explained.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief – as much fun as quidditch was with Draco, he found that duelling set his blood boiling in a way nothing else did.

"However, you need to realize, both of you, that if you start slacking in duelling, I will remove you from the team. I'm sorry, but you two are the two most talented duellists Durmstrang has gotten in a long time. I won't allow that potential to be wasted," Draco arched a brow, but couldn't hide his pleased smirk.

"Thank you, sir, and you too Viktor," Harry said, his voice unusually polite.

Krum inclined his head as the keeper and two beaters arrived near them, having packed up the rest of the kit.

"Hey Corvus, I'm Miranda, and the other beater today was Ash, sorry about the bludger – you seemed to handle it well enough though," she said, giving a playful wink which caused a lump to rise in Harry's throat.

"Come now, Miranda, you're a fifth year now, cant flirt with first years. You'll frighten the poor boy," said the keeper who grinned before extending a hand to Draco who shook it, "My name's Brandon, ignore Ash when she calls me B.B." He turned and shook Harry's hand next who realized why Draco was poking his hand – Brandon had an incredibly strong grip, one that gave his hands pin and needles as soon as it was released.

"Good to meet you all," Draco said, Elise just watching Brandon rather intently.

"You're the youngest on the team in what, two years? B.B here is a third year, got in first year like you."

"Wouldn't have thought that, you look more like a fifth year to me," Elise commented casually, getting a smile from Brandon that caused her cheeks to tinge red.

"Anyway, you two had best head off and get some rest – and don't forget that essay for me due in on Friday," Dimitri added on, danger in his voice but a smile upon his face.

**1****st**** November, 1991, Malfoy Manor**

Sirius's body would appear relaxed – lying down on the expensive sofa with his head tilted towards his cousin and her husband. Yet, the fingers of his right hand were playing with his wand idly, and Lucius' wand was not far out of reach either.

"I used to love Fridays," Sirius grumbled quietly.

"Are you implying you don't enjoy these meetings?" asked Lucius sarcastically – Sirius knew that Lucius didn't like this either.

"I don't understand why you two complain so much about tea on a Friday," Narcissa said, peering at them both, "It'd hardly do to have Draco and Corvus see us squabbling with every meeting. We need to get used to each other's company."

Sirius gave a sigh, glancing over at Lucius who was reading a letter, "What does it say?"

"Draco and Corvus got onto the quidditch team," Lucius answered, a faint smile playing at his lips as Sirius sat up quickly and threw his fist into the air.

"Knew he'd do it. How come you got the news so fast anyway?"

"Our owls tend to be a bit faster than the ones you'd get at a shop, the advantage of owning a few owl mailing businesses."

Sirius didn't bother enquiring any further into what would undoubtedly be a highly boring topic of conversation. Instead, he turned his attention to the empty goblet on the small marble table in front of him.

"I take it we're going to be having a drink, then?" he asked, looking not towards Lucius but to his wife Narcissa.

"Yes. But, I thought it best to wait so that we can talk first. There's no point in having a meeting if we just drink."

Sirius groaned, "Honestly, I usually find having a drink makes it easier to talk to Death Eaters."

Lucius sighed, drawing a quizzical look from Sirius.

"What, are you denying your history as a Death Eater? We're in private, aren't we?"

"It isn't that, Black, it's the fact you consistently bring it up as if it somehow gives you the high ground," Lucius answered.

"It's also fairly hypocritical considering what you've done yourself, Sirius," Narcissa added.

Sirius shrugged, although his hands curled into fists, his skin going taut. He hated the game – having to pretend that he had disposed of his best friend's son.

Lucius' eyes flicked towards his hands, but he said nothing.

"It was a shame, honestly, what you did, Sirius," Narcissa commented idly, causing Sirius' ears to prick.

"Shame? What are you on about?"

Lucius answered for her, "When I had heard he'd defeated the Dark Lord, I had thought we'd found a wizard with great potential. Potentially, a new dark lord. I had hoped to perhaps, guide him, offer him my tutelage. When I had heard you had taken him, well… I thought that, perhaps, you'd had the same idea."

A sick feeling rose in Sirius' stomach as he whispered in a hiss "You wanted to turn him into a new dark lord?"

"Yes."

Sirius didn't reply, a chill of dread spreading through his body as he considered the thought.

_If I hadn't taken him, Malfoy would have gotten his claws into him._ He shuddered.

"I take it you aren't a fan of that particular idea, Sirius?" Narcissa said.

"No. No, I am not," he stated vehemently, a pervasive silence settling over them until their goblets filled with rich red wine.

Sirius was cautious about his own goblet – no matter Narcissa's sincerity he couldn't shake the feeling it was all an elaborate trap. It didn't help that Lucius kept eyeing him up as if he were the appetizer to a meal.


	5. Chapter 5

**26****th**** November, 1991, Durmstrang Institute**

Harry gave a sigh as he leant against the wall of the large room, brushing his thumb against his onyx insignia, glancing at the numbers that appeared above his other hand – the numbers made of swirling embers.

"One thousand, eight hundred and forty. Great."

It was Elise's approach that caused his gaze to travel up from the numbers, smiling slightly at her breathless state, "Been busy, I suppose?"

"Yeah, just scraped a win against Alistair," she said, wiping a hand across her brow, drawing an arch of Harry's brow.

"Scraped? Isn't he like, barely over one thousand four hundred?"

Elise's eyes narrowed slightly, "You know he was a little higher than me and I was at one thousand and five hundred."

"Oh, right." Harry grinned ruefully, before being poked in the chest.

"Don't get all cocky about being the highest, Corvus. Plus, Draco's only thirty behind you."

Harry's feeling of smugness slowly faded, "Yeah. He is. He's lost a few though."

"Only because he doesn't pick his opponents as well as you. You only duel people you know you can win."

Harry gave a shrug, "That isn't necessarily a bad thing. It's foolish to fight against someone if you don't know you can't win."

Elise groaned, "Merlin, despite all that ambition you're still not prepared to take any risks."

Harry just sighed, "Aren't you going to, you know, duel?"

"I'm taking a quick break, lay off."

Harry rolled his eyes, before glancing to his side, hearing footsteps.

"It's kind of disappointing when I hear one of my favourite pupils isn't testing himself properly," said Dimitri, striding over.

"I do test myself, I'm just not a fan of losing."

Dimitri groaned, "The only way of learning is through losing."

Harry didn't find himself disagreeing, and instead stayed quiet.

"I want you to duel Draco. You're both on the same level, more or less. Time to start taking risks."

His eyes glanced up to Draco who was just finishing a duel with a second year.

"Great," muttered Harry quietly, still remembering his duel with Draco over two months ago.

"Oh, look, there goes the confidence," commented Dimitri idly whilst Elise snickered behind a hand.

Harry felt the anxiety spread through him from his core, consuming him. He didn't want to lose.

He slid his insignia into his pocket, pulling out his pale wand, watching as a tired Draco wandered over to the two students and their teacher.

"Corvus," he said with a nod, who nodded back.

"Draco, you and Corvus will duel as soon as you're rested," Dimitri said demandingly, watching the two of them intently.

Draco gave a shrug, "Alright, I'll make certain to teach Corvus a little humility."

Harry, spurred on by Draco's arrogance, clenched his fist around his wand, the fire beginning to burn through his anxiety.

"Hurry up and get ready then, Draco," Harry said.

It wasn't long until he was ready, and they were stood opposite each other – not in the center of the room, but off to the side. The few people who realized what was going on, which two people were duelling gathered around – interested to see who would win the fight. Dimitri, Elise, Amalia, Marcus, and Sara Anvis. Marcus looked almost gleeful at the prospect of seeing Harry beaten – Harry knew he had developed a fierce grudge against him.

Even James wandered over – after having been beaten out by Harry and Draco for the spot of Chaser he'd been quite cutting towards them – and aside from that, he had a reputation for being a fierce duellist, the best in his year. The fact that even he was interested by this match spoke volumes to Harry about how much of a reputation he and Draco had developed recently.

And Harry knew that Draco had basked in his reputation – it practically seeped off of him, the way he stood, with his nose upturned and –

_Wait, no, Draco's always been arrogant. _Harry thought to himself.

He had no doubt in his mind Draco was thinking the same thing about him.

They raised their wands towards each other, before bowing.

"_Petrificius Totalus_!" yelled Draco, aiming and flourishing at Harry who rolled to the side, away from the spell, quickly firing off the first spell that came to his mind.

"_Expelliarmus_!" The spell missed Draco who refused to move by a hair's breadth. But Draco didn't hesitate to retaliate – quickly roaring out one word that sent a flurry of panic before the spell had even come to life.

"_Incendio_!" Draco flourished his wand and sent out a jet of fire that only barely missed Harry who dropped to the floor. But it didn't cease – Draco seemed to be continuing the movement of the wand, the fire only stopped from burning the audience by Dimitri's shield he kept up.

As Harry felt and smelt the hairs on his head singe, he desperately tried to distract Draco.

"_Tarantallegra_," he uttered quietly, aiming his wand at Draco's feet which began to dance – surprising Draco and throwing his wand movement out of sync, ending his spell with a loud _bang_ that also disrupted Harry's charm on Draco, and knocked the blonde boy to the floor for a moment, giving Harry time to get up, levelling his wand towards Draco who did the same – both of them looking flustered, sweat beading upon Harry's brow.

"_Aculeus_!" Harry incanted, sending the stinging hex towards Draco who at the last moment flicked it out of the way – a move that Dimitri had taught them a couple of weeks ago.

Draco looked panicked – but there was a gleam in his eyes that told Harry he wouldn't give up just yet.

"_Serpensortia_!" cried Draco, raising his wand which spat out a fat, brown snake that looked very pissed off. Harry was alarmed – and slightly uncertain of what to do when the snake turned its head towards him.

The audience were silent – and so were Draco and Harry, both of whom were watching the snake slowly advance towards Harry.

"_Stop_!" Harry demanded of the snake – he felt silly for even trying it, but he stood his ground.

And so did the snake, which stopped and rose up, cocking its head.

Harry was astounded – but he wasted no time before delivering his next instruction.

"_Go away_," he hissed to the snake, which obeyed, dropping down, turning and starting to slither away before being turned into black smoke. Dimitri kept walking until he was between Harry and Draco, wand still directed towards the soot-mark of the snake.

"Well, I guess that's the first draw I've seen this club have. Don't all of you have spells to practice or something? Go," the teacher said sternly, glancing towards Harry with the gleam of curiosity, whereas Elise and Draco simply stared at Harry with mouths agape.

"Corvus! Why didn't you tell me?" Draco asked in awe.

* * *

Elise and Draco were sat on Draco's bed as Harry sat upon his opposite them.

"So I'm a parselmouth?" he asked for the fifth time.

"No, you're not," Draco said, his tone dripping with sarcasm, "You're just very good at making hissing noises."

Elise rolled her eyes.

"Do I get any kind of special powers from it?"

"My father told me once parselmouths can turn into snakes," Draco said with derision.

"… Really?" Harry asked,

"No, Draco, shut up," Elise commented, "It just means you can talk to snakes, Corvus."

"Oh. That's pretty good too, I guess," Harry said dourly.

"Honestly, outside of places like Durmstrang, it's not something looked upon favourably. Even a few kids here might be a bit more careful of you now, Corvus."

"Beware of Dark Lord Black – wait, that's a ridiculous name," Draco said light heartedly.

"Seriously, Corvus, you should be careful. Some kids won't care, others might be more careful of you, but some might have serious issues with it. Just because someone's a pure or half-blood doesn't make them a supporter of dark wizards," Elise said without humour.

"Buzzkill, and anyway, Elise, what exactly do you define as a '_dark wizard_'? My father, perhaps?" Draco said, half teasing, half serious.

"You _know_ I do, Draco, don't start this again."

Draco gave a contemptuous sigh, "Fine, have it your way."

Harry was surprised that Draco didn't pursue it, and very much relieved. Their arguments were never calm, and often led to Draco challenging Elise to a duel.

"Still, so I'm a parselmouth, why did Dimitri end the duel?" Harry asked – the suppressed fury brimming again.

Draco shrugged as Elise tried to find an answer, "Um, maybe he thought Draco could be in danger?"

Draco scoffed and Harry scowled, "It wasn't fair. I was starting to get the upper hand."

"You wish. I still had a few tricks up my sleeve," Draco retorted, eyes narrowing dangerously.

"Well, that's no surprise – only way you can win is tricks."

"Oh yeah? I managed to beat you before, though."

"With tricks," Elise added quietly for Harry's benefit.

Draco fumed quietly, glaring at Elise who edged away from him subtly.

An awkward silence enveloped the three, the only noise being the quiet crackling of the fire that gave the room its warmth.

Elise broke the silence, "I'm glad that there are at least fires in our rooms, people always said there were no fires in Durmstrang. It'd be freezing right now without them."

Harry shivered at the thought, happy to be distracted, "Yeah. I like the fires. Makes the place less miserable."

Draco just shrugged.

"Come on Draco, cheer up. Anyway, Elise, don't we have an essay for transfiguration due in on Friday?" Harry asked.

Elise nodded, resting her chin upon her hand, "Yeah. It's on how the _Avifors_ spell transfigures an object into multiple objects rather than a singular widespread change."

"That is the simplified version isn't it, Elise?" Draco asked numbly.

"… Yes, it is. Maybe if you had taken more notes last lesson…" Elise left the suggestion open, waiting for someone to finish it.

"… I'd have to spend five minutes looking for it rather than five seconds asking you," Draco finished sarcastically as Elise slammed her hand into her face in frustration.

"Well, anyway, might as well get a start on it, right?" Harry said, eager to continue distracting his mind away from the revelation earlier in the day.

They all nodded, fetching ink and parchment and began writing down their introductions to the essay, muttering to each other for advice and critique.

**29****th**** November, 1991, Durmstrang Institute**

The three of them walked quietly away from the potions classroom, listening to Harry whine.

"Fridays have the worst morning's possible, history of magic and then potions. At least on other days you get something lively to wake you up – on Fridays I swear they want us to go back to sleep."

Draco smirked, "Maybe if you weren't as bad at History and Potions you'd enjoy them a little more, Corvus."

Harry scowled at him as Elise rolled her eyes, "Oh come on, Corvus is good at potions – it's just that bitch of a teacher we can't put up with."

Draco sighed, "Make all the excuses you want," he teased.

Elise opened her mouth as she started to form a particularly cruel retort for Draco before Harry interrupted her.

"I forgot my essay," he said, pausing.

"Well, you have around twenty minutes to get it," Elise said, "You want us to come with you?"

"No, you two go on, I'll meet up with you at transfiguration," Harry said before splitting off down a corridor as he jogged back to his room, out of breath by the time he got there.

Unlocking the door, he quickly stepped inside and closed it, looking around at the stone floor, wondering whether he had knocked it off his table in his hurry this morning.

He sighed as he spotted the roll of parchment poking out from underneath his bed as if it were a small, shy animal trying to elude detection.

"Come here," Harry muttered, starting to take a step towards the roll before pausing – he had an idea.

"_Accio Essay_," Harry murmured, straining to focus his mind only on the roll of parchment that was ever so slightly stained by imported butterbeer from Draco's dad. With his wand outstretched, Harry drew a semi-circle in the air with his wand, eyes watching the scroll.

The scroll gave the slightest wiggle as it started to roll across the stone floor, causing Harry to give a brilliant grin.

And then it stopped rolling, prompting a groan from Harry, "I guess you need to stay concentrated until it's in the air then."

He moved forward, bent down and picked it up, tucking it under his cloak and in the back of his pants before turning around to leave through the door.

* * *

He sighed as he headed through the mostly deserted corridors – the school was so big that it ended up being fairly uncommon for the corridors to be packed with people at break and lunch. Usually people would be in the dining hall or hovering around the classrooms.

Which was why Harry was surprised when he wandered down a dark hall to see two people step out in front of him, blocking his way, hearing a third step behind him at the other end of the corridor.

A feeling of unease settled over Harry as he drew his wand subtly, glancing around him for somewhere to duck under but finding only a ruby embedded into the stone wall, with Grindelwald's mark inscribed above it.

"Great," Harry muttered under his breath before speaking more loudly to the silhouettes, "Hey! What's going on?"

He heard a familiar voice snicker, although he could not figure from whence it came.

"Hey, Corvus. I don't think we've been introduced," the silhouette said from behind him, Harry whirling around to look at him.

"… I know you, you're James, right?" asked Harry, slowly raising his wand towards the figure who hesitated, stopping where he was – only a few feet from Harry.

"Yeah. I am," he said, before Harry heard one of the two figures behind him take a step closer and he reacted, spitting out the spell as he lashed out, conjuring fire from the air towards James, illuminating his cruel glare in the brief moment before Harry was kicked in the back of his legs, sending him to his knees whilst James sliced the flames away from his form with a murmured incantation.

"You know, my brother was in the infirmary for a week because of you," said the figure behind him before he felt another sharp kick in his ribs, sending Harry rolling to the floor, sending off a banishing spell towards the figures – hitting the silent one and sending him into the passage's tunnel with a crack.

There was another crack another moment later as James slammed his boot down onto Harry's shoulder, eliciting a scream of agony from Harry.

"Marcus?" asked the voice that had spoken but a moment earlier, the silhouette turning around to tend to his twin.

"I'm fine Toumas," groaned Marcus, as Harry tried to move his wand towards them before having it kicked out of his grip, and then receiving another kick into his side, sending him over onto his front, a few objects slipping free of his pockets, rolling across the floor.

"What's this?" asked James snidely, squatting down to peer at the crystalline onyx insignia that was shrouded by shadows.

James picked it up between his forefinger and thumb, and the effect was instantaneous, his body going stiff – as if he had turned to stone. Harry's vision was blurring as he watched James topple over onto his chest, before his vision went dark, the last thing he heard being an alarmed shout and frantic footsteps.

* * *

Harry's vision returned to him in a haze of pain and confusion, going to sit up only to have a sharp prick of pain travel from his shoulder – his stomach feeling as if it were trapped underneath a weight.

He opted instead to turn his head – blinking furiously as the form of James came into form, a mop of brown hair obscuring his face.

He coughed loudly, being careful to move only his left arm to push James off of him with a strained wheeze.

He tried to sit up before a sharp flaring pain hit him in his chest, causing him to cough loudly again. He used his left hand and feet to shuffle up the wall, leaning against it. He breathed heavily, resting, before starting to use his feet to push himself and slide up the wall.

As he finished getting to his feet, he tasted the blood on his lips, the same blood dripping from his nose, raising his left hand to wipe it away wearily, before bending down to pick up his wand with his left hand, sliding it into his pocket. He then went to start shuffling with the wall down the corridor, dripping blood upon the pale grey stone floor.

It wasn't long until he emerged from the dark corridors he had been using as a shortcut into an abandoned hallway – the usually sparsely populated corridors emptied due to the population being in lessons.

He wandered down the hallways, shuffling like a zombie until he reached the closed doors of his transfiguration class, heavy and oaken. He lazily raised his left hand to knock on the door, once, twice, and thrice before the doors slowly pulled themselves open.

"I'm thorry I'm late, thir," Harry groaned, unable to speak properly for his bleeding, swollen tongue.

"Corvus? What happened?" said an aghast Draco who had turned around to stare at Harry, his eyes following the droplets of blood Harry had trailed in.

"Corvus! Class, keep trying with the spell, I'll take Master Black to the infirmary," said Professor Novatch who stormed forth to support Harry as Draco and Elise got out from their desks to help.

"Draco, Elise, thank you. You can take the rest of the day off, I imagine Corvus will want some company in the infirmary. It looks like he was attacked."

They made their way to the infirmary, Harry's head throbbing as if a silverback gorilla was throwing a tantrum inside. As they emerged into the infirmary, the petite, small nurse rushed over to help Harry into a bed.

"Hecate's wrath, look at him! What happened?" she asked, turning to look questioningly at Elise and Draco, as Novatch started to sign a form on the desk next to the door.

Draco stared at the girl whilst Elise shrugged, "We don't have any idea, he came into Transfiguration like this."

Professor Novatch made his way over and whispered a few quiet words into the nurse's ear who nodded. The teacher left in a hurry, leaving the four of them alone.

"Well, I can tell you now that these are either nasty curses, or someone physically went after him," the nurse said with a stern grimace.

"He said he had gone back to get his essay, we waited a few moments for him outside the class but didn't see or hear anything," Elise added in an attempt to be helpful.

"Either way, he'll probably be staying here over night. I can fix the tongue and nose easily, but whoever did this broke his shoulder, and maybe a rib too considering how he's standing."

Draco nodded, his eyes glancing over his friend who was now laying prone in the bed, "How long will it take him to heal?"

"Probably an all-night job, maybe two nights," the nurse said, tapping her finger on her lip.

Harry groaned, turning his head to look at Elise and Draco who sat down near the bed.

"Do you know who did this, Corvus?" Draco said seriously.

Harry nodded numbly to the greatest extent he could reach.

Elise fidgeted uncomfortably as she looked at the two boys baleful expressions, "What are you going to do?"

"Well, if Corvus is up for it, I think we're going to get them back for what they did," Draco said slowly, threateningly.

Corvus nodded vehemently.

**1****st**** December, 1991, Durmstrang Institute**

Draco was sat on Harry's bed as the early light of dawn crept over them through the windows, poring over books that were filled with little known spells and dark magic.

Harry's list was growing – having made notes of every spell worth his time to be learnt. The boys had stayed up all night, and although their eyelids were drooping, they did not rest.

"What time is it, Draco?" Harry yawned, glancing over to his friend as he rubbed his eyes.

"About half seven," replied a dreary Draco, the usual acidic edge not present in his tone.

"We could head down to breakfast, then go practice these spells," Harry muttered quietly, going to roll up his notes and slide them into his trouser pockets.

"Breakfast first," Draco agreed, his voice full of muted enthusiasm at the idea of hot food.

They shifted themselves off of the bed, pulling on their shirts and cloaks as they moved out of the door and down towards the dining hall, where only a few people were awake, eating lavish meals.

As Harry sat down, a full English breakfast appeared in front of them, steam rising from it, its scent waking Harry up just a little.

"Never thought there'd be a day where I'd complain about a full English breakfast, but here it is. Can't I get some eggs benedict instead?" Draco said, his voice his typical drawl.

"Everyone else thought there would be," Harry retorted with a snort, prompting Draco to elbow his side and spit out some beans onto his plate.

"Lovely," commented Elise as she sat down, eyeing Harry with disgust – like he was a slug dissolving in salt.

"Hey, Elise," Harry muttered, waving a fork towards her casually.

"Morning. How long did you stay up last night?" Elise asked, glancing at the morose Draco whose eyes were shut as he cut his sausages.

"We stayed up all night," Harry muttered, not bothering to look up at the impending disapproving stare from Elise.

"Why? Was there some kind of party you didn't invite me to?" Elise asked, her voice turning sarcastic.

"You'd be proud, we were _studying_, little Miss Perfect," Draco said, his voice regaining it's usual venom.

"Studying what? Whether you can recreate a winter wonderland in your bedroom?" she said bitingly, causing Harry to choke on his sausage as he laughs.

"You'd know all about that, wouldn't you? And anyway, no, we were studying the dark arts,"

Elise visibly clenched her jaw before responding calmly, "And why, were you doing that?"

"Corvus wants to get those boys back," Draco said, "And I for one, encourage his choice."

Elise didn't react for a moment before nodding sympathetically, "Sure. I'm in, next time, invite me."

Draco looked at her with wide eyes, "Are you _mad_? A girl spending the night in an all-boys room? The teachers would crucify us."

"I think castration more likely," Harry added.

Elise rolled her eyes, "You English are such prudes. There's no rules against that here. Why do you think there's two people to a room rather than a dozen in a dormitory?"

Draco made a face before smirking droopily, "Makes sense, I guess."

"Well, we're going to go try out a few spells after breakfast, so you might as well eat and come with us," Harry said, ignoring the crude topic of conversation.

"Alright, but how will you be testing them?"

"Well, we'll be testing them on each other, of course," Draco answered, rolling his eyes.

"But what if one of us gets seriously hurt?" asked Elise with a tone of concern.

"Then we'll know they work," Draco and Harry answered in unison, before returning to their meal alongside Elise who was still shaking her head.

It didn't take them long to finish – Harry and Draco were eager to test out their spells, and Elise's invasive curiosity carried her along with them.

The room that usually held the duelling club was empty – barely illuminated by the morning light that shone through the windows on the far wall.

"What's the first spell, Draco?" Harry asked as they walked to the middle and up onto the raised platform where the teachers had held their duel at the start of the year.

"I think it was the ConjunctivitisCurse."

Elise frowned, "That's a nasty spell, are you sure you want to try that?"

Draco nodded, "Of course, otherwise it wouldn't be on the list, would it, Elise? Corvus can try it on me first."

Harry gave Draco a nod, going to the far end of the platform and raising his wand towards Draco without hesitation, part of him roaring to use _Incendio_ instead just to spite Draco, to prove he was better than him.

"_Oculustio_!" Harry shouted, skilfully flicking his wand before twizzling and jabbing forwards in a spiral towards Draco's face.

"Ow!" Draco yelled indignantly, prompting Elise to run over with Harry not far behind.

"Are you alright?" Elise asked, looking at his eyes which had turned red.

"My eyes feel like I have papercuts on them, but not like they're inflamed," Draco replied in way of a direct answer.

"That's because Corvus lacked the proper _intent_ to cause harm. That's what makes a curse strong, what makes it work," explained the shrouded figure in Dimitri's voice, who soon unveiled himself by stepping out into the light, "I'm impressed it even had that effect. Better than most third years who try and learn the spell."

Harry looked at Dimitri questioningly, glancing at the empty doorway uncomfortably.

"I heard you lot coming in, so I wondered what you were doing. Plus, I needed to give you this back, Corvus," he said, walking up onto the platform he had dominated in the past to hand back Harry his onyx insignia, "We found James clutching this not long after you got to the hospital. He'll be given appropriate punishment," Dimitri said, staring at Harry piercingly and Harry knew that he understood why they were training.

"I want to get my own back on him," Harry said, his voice full of unrestrained passion.

"If it's getting you to study like you are now, I won't complain. But you need to be aware that beating James will not prove anything to anyone. He's a good duellist, but he was never anywhere near your level at the same age. You have nothing to prove."

Elise frowned, "No, but it doesn't mean he can't get revenge. What's wrong with that? James deserves punishment."

"He is getting punishment as per the laws of this school," Dimitri said.

"My dad read a muggle play to me once, and it said that '_All the law is not in a book,_' we should give him what he deserves."

Dimitri gave a snicker, "Honestly, I'm surprised that a _Black_ has knowledge of muggle literature. But I'm not telling you off – just letting you know what it is exactly you are doing."

Draco looked at Harry oddly, his eyes slowly returning to normal, "What is your dad doing reading you _mudblood_ books?" Dimitri and Elise both gave Draco a look of reproach at his choice of language.

"Draco, you do know that the chances are you have read muggle literature yourself, yes? Pure bloods like to think that muggleborns and such corrupt our culture, but we've been borrowing from their culture for a long time. Shakespeare, Beowulf, so on," Dimitri said, looking at Draco with a calculating look in his eyes.

"What, are you one of those muggle sympathizers?" Draco said with a sneer.

"No. I'm on the fence – there are merits to both arguments. Just make sure you're using the _right_ arguments against them. Wouldn't kill you to do some research on the topic," Dimitri commented, drawing a smile from Elise who Harry knew was of a similar mind set – if much further leaning towards sympathy for the muggles.

"Can we try the next spell?" Harry interrupted, seeming eager to carry on.

"How about… this, the redactor curse," Dimitri said over Draco who had opened his mouth before shutting it with a glare, "I believe that would be appropriate to your level of skill. It might take you a few weeks to master at your age, so it can be your homework for the winter holidays. You can practice at home right?"

Draco smiled at Harry faintly, who grinned back at him. "Corvus is coming home with me. Our families are staying at my home for the winter, so he can practice these spells."

Dimitri frowned, but nodded, "Right. Good. Give it a try here first – all of you. I'll conjure some targets for you."

**13****th**** December, 1991, Durmstrang Institute**

Harry and Draco stacked the last few books into Harry's bag neatly.

"So, when are we supposed to be leaving the school by?" Harry asked, looking at Draco.

"I think we have to be gone by eight, so we have an hour," Draco answered, glancing towards the door expectantly.

"Wondering where Elise is too?" Harry asked, following his gaze.

"Yes. I'd thought she would have visited by now."

Harry shrugged, "Maybe she's just busy."

"Maybe," Draco said, not sounding entirely convinced as he shifted his trunk next to the door with a levitation charm.

"Do you want to go and check up on her?" Harry asked, knowing that Draco didn't like to admit that he cared for Elise.

"Sure, if _you_ want to."

Harry nodded, closing and sealing his trunk before levitating it next to Draco's, "Let's head over to her room then."

The corridors that were at most sparsely populated were now empty but for the occasional straggler who was moving his stuff outside, and it didn't take long for Harry and Draco to get to her room – Draco checking around every corner for Harry's safety.

"You know, I doubt they'll try and ambush me if you're with me anyway, Draco," Harry said, leaning against the wall as Draco knocked for Elise.

"Of course not, Corvus, they're afraid of me," Draco said with a smug smile that made Harry roll his eyes.

There wasn't any response for a minute, only getting a sigh as Draco knocked again, the door opening for them to unveil Elise sat on her bed to the side of the dark room, everything was packed – though it must have been done in a rush as her hair was yet untamed which was unusual for Elise.

"What do you two want?" she asked sharply, but with warmth in her tone.

"Just came to check up on you, where's Amalia?" Harry asked.

Elise rolled her eyes – she constantly teased Harry about Amalia ever since he made a comment about her looking nice one lesson.

"She's already left," Elise said.

"So, why are you still here? You're packed after all," Draco said, leaning against the frame of her bed.

Elise breathed deeply before exhaling slowly, "I'm heading to Bulgaria for the winter, to visit the rest of my family. They all hate my parents, and are racist and hate muggles. Pureblood supremacists – of the worst kind."

"I wonder what that's like," muttered Harry with a rueful smile before going quiet as Elise shook his head.

"It's not the same, because they have this big feud with the Krums, and they'll end up fighting them at the ball or something," Elise muttered, clenching her fists.

Harry paused, before tentatively going to hug Elise who returned the hug gratefully.

"It's why I hate fighting with people, which sucks because I stand up for myself," murmured Elise into Harry's shoulder.

"That's not a bad thing," Draco said comfortingly, getting no reply from Elise who just kept hugging Harry for a few moments before pulling away.

"Thanks, I just hate Christmas because of this. I can't wait until we all get back."

"Yeah. I understand," Harry said, getting a pat on the back from Draco before being shot a shaky smile from Elise.

"I bet you two will have loads of fun though, Corvus finally gets out of the house, and you get someone your age to hang around with."

Harry nodded, "I'm looking forward to it."

Draco gave a grin, "Maybe I can persuade my father to take us to the Ministry's party."

Harry looked at him in shock before Elise spoke out first.

"But wouldn't someone arrest him?" Elise asked.

"Technically Corvus hasn't committed any crimes, only his dad has," Draco pointed out.

"Eh, they'd probably consider my existence a crime," Harry said with a smirk.

"Who doesn't?" Draco asked ponderously before joining in Harry and Elise's laughter.

After a few more minutes, they levitated Elise's trunk to their room before they all grabbed their stuff and went down to the meeting place before heading onto the ship where they spent the rest of the day talking, and promising to write to one another.

**13****th**** December, 1991, Portsmouth**

Draco and Harry were the first two, and the only two off of the ship and onto the abandoned harbour. Waiting there, was Narcissa and Lucius Malfoy who they approached.

"Good evening, Corvus," Lucius said courteously as he extended his hand which Harry shook tentatively.

"Good Evening, Mr. Malfoy," Harry replied evenly, looking up at the blonde man whose eyes shone with interest.

"Evening, father, mother," Draco said, his mother putting her hand on his shoulder comfortingly.

"Draco," his father said, looking at him for the first time and nodding once.

There was silence for a moment before Draco's father, Lucius spoke again.

"I've heard a fair amount about you so far, Corvus – your father is very proud of you and all that you've accomplished in school."

Harry blinked in surprise, "You've already met my dad?"

"Of course, how else would he have allowed you to stay with us?" Lucius asked in bemusement.

Harry shrugged – he hadn't thought about it too much, he was so excited to stay with Draco.

"Anyway, how was the journey back for you two?" Narcissa asked politely.

"Well, thank you, mother," Draco said – Harry found his reply oddly short, and so he decided to add onto it.

"We get off at the first stop, so we had a pretty short journey, thanks."

Narcissa nodded, glancing at Harry with a faint smile for a moment.

"Why are we still here, father?" Draco asked quietly, glancing up towards Lucius again.

"We're waiting for Harry's dad to arrive," he answered.

"Wait, why is my dad coming here?" Harry asked with concern.

"He said he'd meet us here so we can all head to the manor at the same time. Don't ask why, I don't understand either," Lucius said, a slight bitter edge in his voice.

Harry looked around, expecting to see Sirius somewhere around the harbour, but saw nothing.

"How long do you think he will be?" Harry asked.

"He should be here now," Narcissa said, pursing her lips as she looked behind herself.

"I think I see him," Draco said excitedly, looking behind his father towards the figure striding forwards with two glass bottles filled with a dark liquid.

Harry grinned at the sight of his god-father, running over and hugging him tightly, the glass bottles pressing into his back as Sirius returned the embrace.

"Hey kid, Draco," he said with a nod towards the blonde boy who nodded back, "I got two bottles of coke – it's a muggle drink, but you both ought to try it."

Lucius' brows raised for a moment in outrage before returning to a neutral expression – Narcissa made no effort to hide her disapproval through her pursed lips though. Draco seemed confused, but extended his hand for the bottle – Sirius moving Harry to his side and keeping a hand around his shoulders as he gave them both their drinks.

"It's – fizzy, like firewhisky," Draco said.

"How come you've drank firewhisky, Draco?" Narcissa asked sharply, disapproval ringing in her tone.

The boys were silent as Sirius' grin grew, Draco and Harry exchanging a cautious look.

"Um. Krum let us have a bit after training," Harry said carefully, slowly – watching to see how Draco's parents would react.

"That's pretty normal for most quidditch teams," Sirius said supportively, drawing a sideways glance by Lucius.

"I suppose," Lucius said in an attempt to placate his wife.

Draco kept sipping on his coke as Harry took another swig – it wasn't unpleasant, but very sweet. It tickled his tongue and throat which gave him the desire to drink more.

"This stuff is oddly addictive," Harry said, finishing off his bottle quickly as Draco neared halfway with his.

"Come on, finish your drinks and we'll apparate home. Draco and Corvus, you'll come with me. Sirius, go with Narcissa."

The boys nodded, heading over to Lucius as Draco threw away his now empty glass bottle, placing a hand on both of Lucius' arms – their trunks vanishing in front of them, before there was a sickening lurch and the surrounding scene disappeared.

**13****th**** December, 1991, Hogwarts**

Dumbledore was sat behind his desk presiding over both Snape and Lupin, who were just finishing reading the troubling letter.

"So, Corvus Black is a parseltongue. I would believe this sufficient evidence that he isn't James' spawn," Snape said without the slightest hint of a smile.

Lupin nodded as well in silent agreement, a frown settled upon his face.

Dumbledore didn't know what to say to the recent development, not bothering to hide the worry present on his face.

"What do you think we should do?" Lupin asked, looking to Dumbledore.

"I don't know. It does not necessarily prove anything – but it does indicate a predilection towards a darker path," Dumbledore said, looking over his half-moon glasses at Severus and Remus.

"But we'll have to wait three years anyway just to judge him in person. We're playing with fire that's creating a plume of smoke that can be seen hundreds of miles away," Snape said slowly, in what would be a ponderous tone for most men but sounded critical coming from Severus.

"Yes, we are – but the only other option is to plunge our heads into the coals, so to speak. There is no safe path here," Dumbledore gave a sigh, adjusting his glasses slightly.

"It's repetitive. Something new arises, and we meet up only to agree to be patient, to wait to see how it turns out. What move will we be making to counter act this?" Lupin asked curtly.

Dumbledore and Severus both looked at Lupin in surprise.

"My, my, Remus, I never thought you'd be the one to preach action," Snape drawled, smirking faintly.

"Remus is right. And that's why I have taken an action. I will be rebuilding the duelling club for next year, and then maybe in the third we can enter the international tournament. We may be able to attract Durmstrang students – and possibly young Black himself – to the school. If we can do that, well, it'll make understanding Corvus Black a little easier," Dumbledore said only for Remus to groan.

"That is yet another action for the next few years. We want immediate action, now. If we had stopped Lord Voldemort when he was younger, we wouldn't have lost so many as we have. Let's not make the same mistake."

Dumbledore watched Remus for another few moments before nodding simply.

"What do you propose, Remus?"


	6. Chapter 6

**14****th**** December, 1991, Malfoy Manor**

Harry wandered around his room, the light of dawn breaking in through the grandiose windows that proudly displayed the Malfoy estate, the fences visible as a thin black line far from the manor.

He gave a yawn and stretched briefly before wandering to the heavy oaken door, twisting the ornate doorknob and leaving through the doorway into the corridor that he looked up and down for anyone who would catch him at this early hour.

It didn't take Harry long to find the impressive bathroom – the shower would also operate as a hot tub or bath, and was carved out of some kind of marble.

He sighed whilst he pulled off his boxers and locked the door before stepping under the shower and turning it on, letting the luxurious hot water pour over him and down his back.

Half an hour later Harry entered what would constitute as the living room – sofas aligned to face one another with a coffee table made from an exotic wood in the middle. There were statues in the corners of the room, depicting either members of the Malfoy family from a bygone era or serpents.

"They don't half take pride in their history," Harry muttered to himself as he sat down on the sofa and opened his book on transfiguration.

The first person awake after him was Draco, who drearily moved over to Harry and peered over his shoulder to read the book he had been reading for half an hour.

"Really? Transfiguration? I'll take you to our library later, then you can read some of the books on the dark arts," Draco said, rolling his eyes.

"We were studying the dark arts nearly every day after those assholes got me," Harry pointed out.

"Yeah, but here we can properly practice them," Draco said, "Besides, Dimitri told us to practice the reductor curse."

Harry inclined his head – everything he said was true, but he was confused.

"_Properly_ practice them?"

"We can practice the spell without having to worry about being punished for damaging the school, and we can use living targets for some of the curses," Draco explained patiently.

Harry was silent for a few moments, thinking over what Draco said, "Living targets?"

"Animals. Otherwise we'll never get any real practice."

Harry hesitated as he considered – it was only animals, and he'd probably be using the spells on people at some point – how bad could experimenting on an animal be?

"Sure, sounds good," Harry said with a nod as Draco flopped down onto the sofa, barely missing Harry's outstretched feet.

"Do you want something to drink, Corvus?"

Harry gave a nod, "Sure, what do you have?"

Draco grinned, "What do you _want_?"

Harry considered, "How about a glass of butterbeer?"

There was an audible _snap_ and a meek house elf appeared with a bowed head, holding up a glass of milk for Harry who glanced over and took it, blinking.

"Is there anything else the masters would desire?" the elf squeaked, his wide, baseball sized eyes looking at the two young boys as his long, floppy ears drooped.

"I'll have a milk, Dobby," Draco said authoritatively.

The elf disappeared with a snap of his fingers, only to reappear with a glass of frothy milk a moment later for Draco who took a conservative sip from the drink and let out a sigh of satisfaction, prompting Dobby to vanish again.

"Huh. Your house elf is much better than Kreacher," Harry commented, putting down his book completely, folding the page at the corner so he knew where he had stopped when he checked later.

"Yeah, Dobby's well trained," commented Draco idly, "though sometimes he is much too harsh on himself."

"You don't sound all that concerned," Harry pointed out.

Draco just gave a shrug.

Harry shook his head whilst taking a swig of his butterbeer before a quiet cough alerted him to the presence of his pseudo-father.

"Isn't it a bit early for that?" Sirius asked clearly, making Draco jump, getting to his feet.

"A bit early for what?" Harry asked, taking on a blissfully unaware tone as he took another swig, looking Sirius in his grey eyes evenly.

His godfather's lips twitched at the corners, "I think you know what I'm talking about," he said, before pulling out his wand and silently pulling the glass from Harry's grasp to his own, taking a long draught from it before smacking his lips, "Delicious."

Harry just stared at Sirius with furrowed brows, pursing his lips in frustration – his hands balling into fists as Draco started to crack up in laughter.

It was only after Sirius started grinning that Harry cracked a smile, "Ass," he said, sitting back down on the sofa next to Draco.

"You two are up quite early – and already dressed, planning anything?" Sirius looked over the two young boys who just shook their heads, both simultaneously raising their feet to rest upon the coffee table.

"Actually, sir-"Draco was cut off by Sirius as soon as he said sir, his mouth left open as the adult spoke slowly.

"As much as it is refreshing to hear you call me sir rather than murderer, my name is Sirius and you're allowed to use it," he said.

Draco nodded, "Sirius, then, me and Corvus have been practicing the redactor curse, could you help us with it?"

Sirius paused, raising his chin which he rapped on with his fingers, "I could, but what's in it for me?"

Harry groaned, "Draco, he's in one of those moods, he wants to play at being some businessman."

Draco gave a smirk and winked at Harry, "Well, I could show you my father's wine cellar."

Sirius paused, and looked at Draco as his features hardened, "Wine cellar?"

Draco nodded, "But first, give us your word that you'll help us,"

Sirius didn't hesitate in his reply, "Done, I'll help you with any of your defence against the dark arts work if you just show me where it is."

Harry stared at Draco – his friend in the past had always shown that he would submit to his father's bidding, for him to be rebellious was odd.

_He must be doing it to impress Sirius_, Harry concluded.

"What is it?" Draco asked Harry with an arched eyebrow.

"Nothing," Harry replied with a shake of his head.

"When do you two want to practice, then?" Sirius asked, leaning on the sofa.

"Well, there's another couple of hours until breakfast, so we could get some training done now," Draco said as he stood up, offering a hand to Harry who took it.

"Alright, where will be practicing then? I doubt your parents would want all these precious ornaments as practice targets," Sirius asked, a smirk playing upon his features as he eyed the various statues.

"There's a room in the dungeons where I'm allowed to practice, my father taught me a few spells down there when I was younger," Draco said, leading the way through the manor to the dimly lit dungeons – into a large, open room but for four evenly spaced pillars that rose to the ceiling high above.

Harry looked around for a moment before simply asking "Where's the targets?"

At the sound of the word "targets" six metallic figures sprung from the stone floor in the centre of the room.

"Well, that's convenient," Sirius muttered under his breath, before pulling out his wand, "So, where are you at with the spell?"

Draco gave a shrug, "I could demonstrate if you want," and receiving a nod of encouragement from Sirius.

Draco stepped forward, watching his feet's positioning as he brought up his wand before pulling his elbow back and jabbing forwards whilst forming an incomplete circle in the air.

"_Reductor_!" Draco yelled, the target's chest fragment and blowing outwards, showering the floor with fine shards of wood and metal.

Sirius watched Draco for a few moments afterwards before looking at Harry, "Are you at the same level?"

Harry flushed as he answered, embarrassed to confess to his god father that Draco was ahead of him with the spell, "No, I can only make stuff fragment."

Sirius nodded before looking at them both, "What you need to realize is that the spell is a curse, and thus dependent on multiple factors. A curse is a form of the dark arts that has one of three purposes – damage, control, or with one curse in particular, death," Sirius said, glancing towards Harry with furrowed brows before the fleeting expression vanished from his face.

"So, intent, right? Dimitri said that's why Corvus' conjunctivitis curse didn't work well against me – he didn't want to hurt me."

Sirius smiled briefly at that, visibly relaxing, "Yes. You need to have an iron will, to force the object to do as you desire. Your wand movement – if a little too slow – is fine. It must be intent. Curses require negative intent, because they _are _negative. Most people cannot cast the unforgivable curses for that reason."

Draco nodded, as if understanding – yet there was a frown etched upon his sharp, pointed features, "But how do we force our intent upon it?"

Sirius grinned momentarily, opening his mouth to speak before Harry answered for him eagerly.

"Our words. That's why all the best wizards and witches are great orators – we convey our emotions through the incantation."

Sirius gave a nod, "Precisely."

"Why does that matter though? I mean, emotions aren't just in your voice." asked Draco in a confused tone.

"I suppose it doesn't. It's all about mental concentration and discipline – you _can_ perform magic without speaking a word. But, it is incredibly difficult, and vocalizing the spell's incantation will force you to concentrate and project your will, I guess," Sirius said, scratching his head as his brows furrowed in concentration, his eyes glimmering as he recalled past lessons.

"Um, right, anyway, we should project our will into the spell through our voice?" Harry asked.

Sirius gave a nod, and Draco stepped up again to try, aiming at the damaged target before jabbing and circling with his wand, yelling in a clear, controlling tone, "_Reducto_!"

The target exploded into fragments that scattered across the floor, but some of it was left behind – the back portion of the target remained mostly intact but for damage by the shrapnel.

Draco lifted his head up high, smiling at the visage of his destructive potency, "I did it," he said, looking up to Sirius with a grin, "You're not so bad," he said to Sirius who started to smile, "for a murderer."

Sirius scowled, looking at Harry who was stepping up, and silently repairing the target for him.

"Are you ready?" he asked Harry who gave a stern nod, determined to prove himself as better than Draco.

He stepped up, eyeing the target carefully before stepping forwards and stabbing his wand towards the target, creating an incomplete circle with his wand as he yelled with unrestrained desire, "_Reducto_!"

The target exploded – or at least, the head did, the front half of the chest just fragmenting.

Sirius looked a mixture of disappointment and relief, "That was a good attempt – but I think you focused on the wrong emotion, and you were much too imprecise with the wand movement."

Harry hung his head, his cheeks burning.

(-)

The Malfoys and Blacks were sat at the incredibly long and elegant dinner table eating their breakfast of eggs benedict when Lucius broached the subject of the boy's early morning tutelage under Sirius.

"So, I hear that Sirius here decided to give you two some… help with your dark arts homework."

"Well, Magical Theory, actually." Harry said nonchalantly, drawing a surprised glance from Draco.

Lucius eyed Harry carefully for a moment, the corners of his lips twitching.

"Magical theory, then. I've been thinking – if you are so intent on rising to the top, we should do everything possible to help you along the way."

Narcissa gave a slight nod, "We were thinking – Corvus, you broke a record for the duelling club, didn't you?"

"Draco also broke the same record," Harry pointed out in a state of confusion, glancing at Sirius who just watched Lucius like a falcon would a blackbird, whilst Draco just looked at Harry in a mixture of confusion and gratitude.

"Well, we want to give you an advantage. Neither a Malfoy nor a Black should be second fiddle to some foreigner," Lucius said, inclining his head towards Harry in admission.

"What, like teaching us some powerful magic?" Harry asked, gritting his teeth in frustration.

"Don't be ridiculous, you're eleven. We'll teach you what you can learn – some simple, tricks, for lack of a better word. If you show an aptitude for it, we can experiment with starting to teach you the shield charm, although I doubt you'll understand it for a year or two," Lucius answered, an almost chiding tone present in his voice.

"So, who'd be teaching us? You and your wife?" asked Harry, nodding towards Narcissa.

"Me and Lucius," Sirius answered for him.

Both Draco and Harry turned their heads to look at Sirius, smiles growing upon their faces.

"We believed it to be the most appropriate recourse," Lucius said blandly, squeezing the bridge of his nose with closed eyes before sighing loudly.

"Great! When do we start?" Harry asked, his face lit up like it was Christmas day.

"We could start with the rudiments after breakfast, and afterwards – well, we shall see."

After Lucius' words they ate in silence, but Harry could not ignore the curious glances Draco's parents sent at him – or Draco's frustrated stabs at his breakfast.

(-)

"First of all, your stance is wrong, Corvus."

Lucius didn't care much for personal space, placing a hand on Harry's shoulder and turning him sideways, tutting before raising his wand arm higher still.

"You should always have your wand aimed high – towards the opponent's chest. Always be sideways – it makes you a smaller target."

Harry frowned – it felt weird standing sideways after so many duels facing the opponent head on, but he remained silent.

"Also," Sirius chimed in whilst he moved over to Harry and placed a hand upon his shoulders, "You want to always be on the balls of your feet, like a boxer. Be ready to move at a moment's notice."

Lucius scoffed, "Boxer? My, you have exposed your son to quite a large amount of muggle culture – very peculiar for one such as yourself, Black."

Sirius' eyes narrowed as he looked at Lucius, but bit his tongue and simply clapped Harry on the shoulder, going to face him.

"Wait, are you two going to duel?" Draco asked, a mixture of excitement and concern evident in the high pitched questioning tone.

"Just a few spells to test out Corvus' reactions," Draco's father reassured, Lucius watching Sirius with a stoic expression as he raised his wand towards Harry.

"Ready?" Sirius asked, and Harry gave a nod before a jet of fire shot out towards him from the tip of Sirius' wand.

Harry didn't have time to hesitate – jumping aside and shooting back a curse, "_Oculustio_!"

Sirius barely reacted other than to silently summon a shield that caused the curse to crackle along the white surface and fizzle out before shooting a red light at Harry who ducked to avoid it, only to be hit by a spell he never saw coming – one that knocked him on his back and left him heaving.

"You should not duck in a duel, roll if you must – but ducking simply leaves you immobile. You will either be hit in the head, or the chest as you try to rise," Lucius commented dryly, moving over and tapping Harry's chest with his wand – the tight knot in his chest relaxing along with his breathing.

"Draco, you will try next – and I'll be sending the spells at you," Lucius said assertively – cocking an eyebrow towards Sirius who was frowning.

Harry's god father simply shook his head and moved over – pulling the young black haired boy to his feet and guiding him away from Draco and Lucius to watch safely.

"Are you feeling alright?" he asked in hushed tones, patting his god-son's shoulder.

"Yeah, I am," Harry answered with a clenched jaw, looking past Sirius to the Malfoys.

Sirius hesitated for a moment, looking at Harry with furrowed brows before speaking, "You did well. It'll take a while to get used to – how to stand and move, but it becomes natural eventually."

Harry didn't reply for another moment, before letting out a quiet sigh and nodding as he watched Draco slide away from the first spell.

The second spell came immediately afterwards – and was a spell that Harry could not put a name to, but the wide eyes of Draco told him everything he needed to know – and a knot formed in his stomach as he watched Draco move away from it in almost a dance – small, slight steps guiding him away from harm.

"He's doing very well, he's a natural," muttered Sirius appreciatively, their eyes glued to the performance of the blonde boy who rolled to the side past a jet of water that his father sent at him with a flourish. Lucius' wand gave a sharp jerk and the water formed into ice behind Draco, who turned promptly and sent out a blast of fire with a cry of "_Incendio_!"

Harry's mouth parted slightly in surprise at Draco's performance, "How did he know how to do that?" he asked Sirius quietly who smirked.

"He watched what his father was doing – if you notice, Lucius' wand never stopped moving with the spell – you should always be watching your opponent's wand if you can."

Harry gave a smile of encouragement to his friend as he walked back towards him – but his gut was sinking like a stone – Draco had been perfect – he had been made a fool out of in front of both Sirius and Lucius.

His cheeks burned, but he simply ground his teeth together and listened to Lucius's slow, dulcet tones.

"I think, with some practice, Corvus, you will get the hang of it quickly. We'll keep drilling you on that. Until then, I feel it would be prudent for us to stay with more safe subjects of duelling. We'll get to spells when you are _both_ ready."

Harry cringed as Draco's mouth tightened, the embarrassment roiling through his body like magma, inclining his head. He watched Lucius leave – Sirius following shortly after giving them both a smile and thumbs up.

"Corvus, we're going to practice that until you get it right," Draco said, his voice clear and focused – looking down into his eyes.

_He's slightly taller than me,_ Harry observed startlingly, wincing, "If you want – I think I'd be fine on my own-"

"What would you duel against, your reflection?" Draco asked, his incredulity ringing through the inflection in his voice.

Harry opened his mouth to respond before sighing, "Fine, when?"

"Now."

Harry blinked – they had only just learnt it a few moments ago, and it was nearing lunchtime.

"Now? Why now?"

"Because tomorrow, I want to see what our fathers have to teach us. Your father was one of the best duellists in the war – and my father was a great tactician. We could learn so much."

Harry considered his point – it was true, and a worthy reason to be studious, but he couldn't help but feel bitter about it – it was almost patronizing having his best friend teach him, especially since _he_ was a better duellist than Draco.

He grimaced, swallowing many of the curse words that rose to his lips and nodded, "Fine, whatever."

Harry and Draco faced each other, each assuming a sideways position – balancing on the balls of their feet.

"You're doing it slightly wrong – you still need to tilt yourself slightly, you shouldn't be completely sideways. Like fencing," Draco said, scowling.

"Fencing? Isn't that a muggle sport?" teased Harry, prompting Draco to roll his eyes, "Not completely, anyway, tilt your body slightly – both legs should be slightly bent, and the back leg slightly more to the si- like that."

Harry frowned – neither Lucius nor Sirius had corrected him on this, and he wondered if that was intentional. Maybe they just wanted to make a fool of him.

Draco nodded at his corrected pose, "Just… try and dodge around these spells."

Harry's body was tense, and it stayed that way as he started to dodge slightly to the side.

"_Aculeus_!" Draco yelled, Harry out of the way and watching, waiting for the next.

"That's better than the last time," Draco said with a mixture of a smirk and a sneer upon his face.

Harry's cheeks flushed in rage, but he raised his wand rather than open his mouth.

When Draco next sent a spell at him, Harry ducked under it and with a flick and jab towards Draco.

"_Oculustio_!"

Draco let out a howl of torment as his eyes shut up, sending off another spell wildly towards Harry that hit him in the chest and knocked him to the ground.

"_Depulso_!" Draco incanted before falling to the ground with a thud as he tried to open his eyes.

"What the shit, Corvus?" he exclaimed angrily, sitting up after a few moments as Harry recovered in a daze, glaring across at the blonde boy.

"I'm sick of your teasing! Just because I struggled with it!"

"I'm trying to help you! You just don't like me being better than you at something!"

"You're not! This is the only thing you're doing better than me with," Harry said, his voice dropping as he seethed with barely restrained rage.

"And you hate it, you know that I'm always just a step behind you, that you can't be the best at everything while I'm around," Draco said venomously, the boy's grey eyes narrowing to slits.

"Shut up – you haven't beaten me yet though, _have you_?" Harry said, his voice raising at the end.

"Oh, really? The two times we've duelled I beat you, and then the duel was ended before I could!"

"Bullshit, you know I'd win that last duel if it had gone on longer!"

"Hah! Is that what you wish? So you could finally show off to everyone that you can beat me?"

"What? I don't show off!" Harry yelled, his fist clenching tightly around his wand.

"Don't you? Everyone just _fawns_ over you. As soon as you arrived my parents started to want to teach you, guide you. I _never_ got that, they just expected me to be great!"

Harry listened, his fingers twitching – the burning rage sweeping through his body refusing to lay low – but a tight knot was forming in his stomach as he watched Draco's frustration break through.

"That isn't my fault!" Harry protested, but his voice was lowering, questioning.

"No, but it doesn't make it fair, I have to _prove_ myself, you just have it handed to you on a plate. I have to wait for _you_ to get better, but we both know if it was me in your place they'd move on without hesitating!" Draco's voice grew only louder, diminishing the flame in Harry's heart, a numb chill starting to settle in his fingers.

"Draco – I mean, you don't know that," Harry said weakly, just watching his friend rage, tears brimming in what was visible of his pink, inflamed, eyes.

"Yes I do. Because my parents always wanted a new… dark lord, or saviour or something, but they never stopped to consider _me_. No, instead they choose my friend! I didn't tell them about you being a parseltongue because I was afraid that they'd focus completely on you," Draco said, his voice going limp at the end, his head drooping forwards further as he just held his swollen eyes.

"I'm sorry," Harry said – his voice dropping further, almost a whisper as he slowly moved over to his friend and put an arm around him, "Come on, let's go get your eyes healed."

(-)

Dinner was a morose affair despite the fact that the Malfoys and Sirius bought into the explanation that Draco's injury was simply caused by them practicing spells upon one another. The silence was broken mid-way through the elaborate, rich meal of roast duck.

"Father, Mother, Sirius – I mean, Lord Bl-"Draco stuttered his way through how he should address Sirius, uncertainty ringing in each stutter.

"Lord Black? What a silly title – I don't own any peasants, do I?" Sirius said in quiet bemusement.

"Uh, Sirius then – I think Corvus wanted to tell you about something he learnt recently," Draco said, looking over at a surprised Harry who shrugged and stopped eating for a moment to speak.

"I'm a parselmouth," he said before tucking back into his honey drizzled duck.

Lucius, Sirius and Narcissa all leaned forwards swiftly, looking at Harry piercingly.

He recognized Lucius' drawn brows but faint twitches at his lips as some sort of pleasure or interest, and Narcissa seemed similar – but for her attempt to hide a frown behind her hand indicated concern.

Sirius, however – his eyes were lights under the shadow of a heavy, stern brow – his lips taut in an attempt to not show his feelings, but Harry knew the look – he was shocked, and unhappy.

"An interesting turn of events," Lucius said, glancing at Draco and Harry with a raised brow, his curiosity radiating from him.

"Interesting is one way to put it, sure," Sirius said, grimacing.

"Perhaps you could demonstrate your ability for us?" Narcissa asked courteously, her voice soft and pleasant, like listening to a lullaby.

Harry froze – he had never _tried_ to speak parseltongue before, but there was no logical reason as to why he shouldn't be able to. He frowned, as he racked his brain for a lexicon of the snake speak.

"W-well," Harry started uncertainly, "the only time I've done it was with a snake in front of me. I don't know if I need one to speak it."

Lucius shook his head, "When the Dark Lord spoke it, he never necessarily needed a snake – we'll summon a snake if you are unable, but I am certain you are capable without."

Draco frowned as he looked at Harry, lines of worry creasing his brow, his grey eyes narrowed as he glanced towards his father. Harry hesitated as he opened his mouth, before closing it and focusing upon the snake he had seen at the duelling club – how its tongue had flicked out of its mouth past its deadly fangs, the audible hiss it had made.

"_What do you want me to say_?" Harry said in a hiss, before he blinked in surprise and grinned.

Sirius' lips twitched, his jaw clenched as the table creaked under the vice like grip of his hands. Luckily, the Malfoys did not seem to notice and merely smiled as Harry spoke in the hiss of a snake. Draco seemed ambivalent, his features sullen, but smiling weakly towards his friend.

Harry only had to look at him once to make up his mind about what to say.

"I wouldn't have been able to figure it out if it wasn't for Draco though – he summoned a snake in our duel," Harry said slowly, watching as his friend's eyes widened ever so slightly, a light appearing to glimmer in them.

"I suppose I should be glad I taught Draco that spell then," Lucius mused, looking down at his hands before he raised his head again to look directly towards Harry.

"Tell me, Harry, has my son already mentioned the party that the ministry are holding?"

Harry nodded, "Yeah, he has," He paused for a moment, before smirking slightly as he feigned innocence, "What is the party?"

"In truth? More than just a celebration of Fudge's first successful year – this is an attempt to lobby the powerful pure blood families – and other wealthy candidates – into supporting him. A large section of the Sacred Twenty-Eight will be present, with the exception of a few blood-traitors."

Sirius rolled his eyes slightly, "What, so Fudge is trying to secure his power… when he's already in power?"

"It does not surprise me that the subtleties of politics evade you, Black. The Wizengamot are even now divided – and Fudge is trying to consolidate power by persuading the most influential individuals to join his party and help sway the rest of the Wizengamot to his favour."

"Lucius, honestly, politics is a waste of time. It's boring," Sirius enunciated the word boring as he took a bite of his roast duck.

"Politics is considered a waste of time by nobody but the ignorant, Sirius. You're a man of action, not of thought – it's understandable why you would have little time for it."

Sirius bristled, putting down his fork gently, "You know, for all your protests that you are a man of thought, you have yet to do anything of note. You've wormed your way into the ministry, yes, but that is more thanks to your wealth rather than any individual action."

"The fact that you are unaware as to what I have been doing means I am doing it right. Only the inexperienced work in the open. Public scrutiny is the death of self-beneficial politics," Lucius said calmly, unaffected by Sirius' jabs at his character. Sirius' fist tightened around his knife, holding it as if it were a weapon.

Harry dared to speak up and his voice cut through the tension in the air, "What are you doing quietly then?"

Lucius regarded Harry with a cold smile, one that made his spine tingle as if somebody had just walked over his grave, "Since you are interested, I'll tell you. Dumbledore has as of late been pushing for a formal investigation into Harry Potter's murder to be reopened. He has also been trying to create a new law that would allow him, and the Wizengamot as a whole, to interrogate any of the families covered under the Sacred Twenty-Eight without need for a warrant."

Harry blinked, glancing across to Sirius to see if he understood it any better, but his god father looked like a dear caught in headlights, seeming almost paralyzed.

"In truth, only one could potentially be passed," Lucius continued, "it is a clever tactic."

"What do you mean, Father?" Draco asked, listening as intently as Harry, both leant forwards.

"If I asked for something unreasonable, you would say no. If I then asked for something slightly smaller, you would feel guilty after declining me once, and be more likely to say yes," Lucius explained, glancing over at Narcissa who smirked back at her husband.

"And you're trying to stop him, right, Father?" Draco asked, a grin spreading across his face as he leant even further forwards.

"Yes. I am trying to avoid the implementation of the law he wants pushed – it would never pass, I'd hope, but Dumbledore has incredible influence still. As for the formal investigation – I'm trying to dissuade the Wizengamot from passing it, but there is little I can do without incriminating myself," Lucius said, looking to Sirius who was trying to relax, his face twitching every so seconds, his hands clenched into fists.

"I understand, Father. I've been thinking, by the way – would you be able to get me a pet dragon? A baby one," Draco asked, looking at his father evenly who shook his head.

"No, you may not – it's an absurd idea, what fool would keep a dragon as a pet?" Lucius said as he put his knife and fork on the plate having finished his meal.

"Well, then, would you be able to let Corvus come to the party with us?" Draco asked, rapping his fingers upon the table as he watched his father with careful eyes. Lucius smiled benignly as he looked at his son, and when he spoke his tone was one of pride, "Yes, I imagine I'll be able to bring him with us. After all, it was not Corvus that broke the law. I do not believe the sins of the father to be the sins of the son," Lucius said, looking at Sirius evenly who scowled.

"It's insane – he'd be in the heart of the ministry, anyone could just give him a dose of veritaserum in a glass of punch, or find some minor grievance to arrest him over," Sirius protested, receiving a curious look from Lucius whose eyebrow was raised, before Narcissa laid a hand on Sirius' shoulder.

"It will be fine, Sirius – he would be with us, and if they tried to spike his drink or arrest him, we could delay it at least enough that he would be safe at home with you," she soothed, receiving a groan from Sirius.

"This is a stupid bloody idea."

**21****st**** December, 1991, The Ministry of Magic**

Harry's dress robes fit him incredibly tightly, to the extent where he would continuously be found tugging at them, and pulling his shirt out of his trousers in an effort to breathe better. His surcoat was an expensive black velvet with a golden trim. His trousers were a similar black velvet and his shoes were a very dark, grey leather with golden clasps.

"You know, I get that my last name is black but would it kill people to let me wear a bit of colour?" he whispered to Draco who was dressed in a dark emerald green surcoat with black boots and trousers.

Draco sniggered as he spoke, "No, but it would make you look gay."

Harry just sighed at Draco's comment, "What, happy and colourful? No shit."

Draco opened his mouth to argue but soon went quiet, instead looking around the marble corridor they were walking through, glancing at various notices on the walls.

"Where is the party being held?" Harry asked, looking back to Lucius who had been talking quietly to Narcissa.

"In a large function room, past the Atrium," Lucius said in a tired voice – Harry and Draco had been asking him questions relentlessly for the last few days, and although the Malfoy patriarch had not resorted to discourtesy, both boys could tell he was getting fed up with them.

Harry's thoughts on Lucius were halted as he emerged into the atrium. Tall, golden statues of a witch, wizard centaur and a goblin were in the centre of a fountain with water spouting from their wands. The ceiling rose up and up – seeming to almost have no end, with hundreds of windowed offices visible above him.

"Hurry on, Corvus," Narcissa said as she placed a hand on Harry's back and ushered him forwards through the atrium into a side passage that quickly had them descend into darkness.

"_Lumos_," Lucius said and with a flick of his wand illuminated the passage in a dull light, revealing a varnished maple door with an ornate golden handle. The door must have been old – there were cracks and stains of various magical potions embedded into the surface.

"When we enter, stick to me, Corvus," Lucius advised, before pulling the door open and stepping into a very large room bathed in golden light – the room seemed to be divided into an outer layer and a central, open area past the many pillars that separated the two. Along the outer layer were a few children, all of which seemed to look to be at a similar age to Draco and Harry.

"Ah! Lucius, my friend!" exclaimed a chubby, small man with a lime green bowler hat that he took off as he shook Lucius' extended hand.

"Fudge, a pleasure as always. This is my wife Narcissa, my son Draco, and his friend Corvus Black," Lucius replied, coolly – his hand tightly gripping the minister's as he stared at Harry.

"Corvus _Black_? My, that is curious – my dear boy, are you quite aware of your father's reputation?"

Harry didn't feign his surprise – he had expected a more violent outburst. Something with much more drama and fuss – truthfully, he felt let down.

"I am, sir," Harry replied courteously. Draco snickered at his meek response, and Harry elbowed him in his side roughly.

"Then you made a bold choice coming here tonight-"Fudge was cut off by Lucius who gave the portly man's hand a squeeze as he spoke.

"I trust there will not be an issue?" Lucius asked curtly, his eyes boring holes into Fudge who scoffed.

"Of course not! No! Just, be careful my boy." The minister waddled away afterwards, rubbing his hand.

"Right, I need to go talk to some people – now, you two," he said, looking at Draco and Harry sternly, "are to not start any trouble. If you do get in trouble you can't resolve, go find me or Narcissa."

The boys nodded their heads, before watching both Narcissa and Lucius wander into the crowd in the centre of the room.

"Should we go see what those lot are up too?" asked Draco, nodding towards the children huddled together away from the adults, talking animatedly.

"Sure, if you feel like it," Harry said with a noncommittal shrug of his shoulders as he trailed behind Draco who puffed out his chest and strode forwards towards the group of chattering children.

"Good evening – I believe we haven't met?" he said, Harry just snorting in disbelief at the extraordinarily cheesy introduction.

"Um, no, I don't believe we have," replied a girl with long brown hair, pretty in a way – but she had an upturned nose that made her bear an uncanny and unfortunate resemblance to a pug, "I'm Pansy, Pansy Parkinson."

Harry rolled his eyes as the others began to introduce themselves in similarly unabashedly posh ways – Crabbe and Goyle were both large and stocky although Crabbe was much plumper than his friend, and Goyle bore an odd resemblance to a gorilla. Zabini and Davis were good looking, and they definitely knew it judging by Zabini's constant flexing and Davis' tendency to flutter her eyebrows. Greengrass was slightly different – still very pretty, but in a more reserved manner than her friend, but she seemed to mostly go along with whatever Pansy said.

"I'm Draco Malfoy," Draco said with a slight bow that caused Harry to snicker loudly and draw a glare from Pansy.

"I'm glad to meet you, your father has quite the reputation – and, um, who is your friend?" Pansy said with no attempt to hide the lack of interest in Harry – her eyes looking Draco up and down.

"His friend should be spoken to directly rather than in the third person. I'm Corvus Black."

There was a hesitant pause before Tracey gave a melodramatic gasp and held a hand to her head as Crabbe and Goyle gave a unanimous grunt.

"You're not serious are you?" asked Blaise Zabini, who jabbed Harry in his chest as if testing whether he was a ghost.

"Oh, he is," grinned Draco as he slung an arm around Harry, "We're the top duellists in Durmstrang, and recently broke Grindelwald's record."

All the girls were pleasantly surprised – and judging by Draco's grin, that was the intended effect. Blaise, Crabbe and Goyle however seemed unimpressed – to the extent of Blaise rolling his eyes and sighing.

"Please, a, what, seventy year old record? Somebody had to break it, just so happened to be you. Besides, it's not as if those Europeans are worth anything in a duel," Blaise drawled, reminding Harry very much of Draco a few months ago. _They probably would have been good friends if he had gone Hogwarts_, Harry thought.

"You're a European, you idiot. England is in Europe," Harry retorted while Draco removed his arm from around Harry and gave him an elbow into his side.

"Be polite," Draco hissed into his ear as Blaise bristled.

"Right, I'm the idiot yet you couldn't even get into Hogwarts," Blaise replied with darkened cheeks, "You know, I bet you can't even cast a curse – let alone duel properly."

Harry was struck by the urge to pull out his wand and put this arrogant boy in his place, his fingers twitching towards the wand in his right hand pocket.

Pansy's eyes twitched towards his hand and went to put a hand on Harry's shoulder, giving him a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes.

"Ignore Blaise, Corvus, he's just jealous of you both – I mean, who can blame him? He's finally met two boys better looking than him," she added teasingly, looking at Draco directly as she said this, Harry coughing over the laughter that he struggled to contain at the poor attempt with flirting. He glanced over to Draco who just smiled coyly back at Pansy.

"Yeah, that must be it," Harry agreed, placated for the moment as he looked Blaise directly in the eyes. The dark boy was seething – having been insulted by both his friend and the two strangers he had just met. Tracey Davis seemed to be trying to console him, wrapping an arm around him and whispering to him.

"What are you doing here, anyway, Black?" asked Daphne Greengrass, her eyes regarding him in very much a conservative manner – holding her judgement so far.

"I was invited here by the Malfoy's – I'm staying with Draco," Harry answered as cordially as he could manage – looking her up and down. Daphne was dressed in a modest ivory dress, but one that oddly suited her.

"I see – I guess you go to Durmstrang then?" she asked casually, prompting Harry to nod and extend his hand towards her which she shook. Harry made sure to have a strong grip – his god father had always told him to use a strong grip.

"Yeah, I'm the top student in the year," he said – feeling the odd need to prove himself as he glanced over at Blaise, before looking back at Daphne, "I'm going to take a stab in the dark and say… Ravenclaw?"

Daphne bit back a laugh, "No, Slytherin. We're all Slytherin – Theodorne Nott too, but he's over with the others, Gryffindors, Ravenclaws and such." Her scathing tone said more to him than her words – she disapproved of his fraternizing with the other houses, and perhaps other houses in general.

"Well, always good to know your enemies, right?" Harry joked, only to receive a nod from Daphne who seemed to be quite serious about it.

"But there's close and then what he's doing," she pointed out which drew a shrug out from Harry who honestly found her obsession with him talking to other houses childish – it was like watching a toddler protest it was an adult.

"I suppose," Harry said in a bored tone which drew narrowed eyes from Daphne.

"I'm sorry, am I boring you?" she asked in a slightly higher pitched voice.

"Well, the whole only caring about houses does – does it really matter what house they're in?" Harry asked, drawing surprised glances from all of the Slytherins and Draco.

"Well – yes, it does," Daphne said, an inflection in her voice towards the end, but her sideways glance made it clear to Harry she wasn't as sure as she tried to sound.

"… Why?" Harry asked simply.

"Because – well, you see, the Gryffindors treat us all like we're evil or something," Daphne protested, her eyes widened.

"Yeah, but you treating them like dirt won't help – besides, what about the other houses?" Harry asked, Draco walking over to his side.

"Well, I mean – if they want to be treated right, they should stop allowing blood traitors and mud bloods into their houses."

"And that's the problem – you refuse to think about it from any perspective but your own," Harry pointed out before Draco clapped him on the shoulder and pulled him slightly closer. Daphne looked flustered – and Pansy looked equally ready to give Harry an earful.

"Come on, let's go get something to eat and drink. You've done enough damage here," Draco whispered into his ear. Harry gave a huff of indignation and allowed himself to be directed towards the punch and snacks, where a tall dark man was currently helping himself to the punch. He gave a curious glance to both Corvus and Draco before turning away and heading off, a golden loop in his ear shaking with every step.

"Why'd you get into an argument with them?" asked Draco in a confused tone.

"They were idiots," Harry said simply – as if that were explanation enough.

"That's a reason not to bother, not a reason to start an argument," Draco protested with an exhausted sigh, running a hand through his hair and messing it up.

"I mean – yeah, but it doesn't make what they think any better."

Draco shrugged, "It's not any of our business, Corvus."  
"I don't like being pragmatic," Harry muttered, taking a glass of punch and drinking deeply from it, running a hand through his long messy hair.

"Yeah, I've kind of noticed," Draco said with a grin. Harry gave him a light playful punch and smiled back at him. They stood there in silence for a few moments – content with just drinking the punch and each other's company.

"You know, I think that Pansy was into me," Draco commented casually after a while.

"Gee, you think?" Harry said, sarcasm practically dripping from his voice. Draco just rolled his eyes and sipped his punch again.

"I also think that Daphne was a little into you," Draco commented idly, looking away from Harry.

"Yeah, not my type. She was a little too…" Harry trailed off as he searched for the right word.

"Stupid? Naive? Stubborn?" Draco suggested as Harry gave a nod and snickered.

"Yeah, I reckon you could say that. You know, we haven't been very productive at this party," Harry said quietly, an inflection in his voice at the end.

"What are you thinking, Corvus?"

"Well, why don't we get some revenge on those Slytherins?" Harry asked quietly, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

Draco gave a nod.

(-)

The party's numbers were just starting to dwindle as Harry and Draco finished the final touches to their plan, stowing away their wands as they watched the arch that the ignorant Slytherins resided by.

"Ready?" Draco asked Harry who nodded and gave a thumbs up. Draco drew his wand and whispered quietly as he gave a flourish of his wand towards the arch.

"_Reducto_."

The spell wasn't extraordinarily powerful – but it did exactly what they had hoped, and some debris fell from the arch, a faint hissing sound could be heard.

"What is that? Is that water?" asked a very confused Pansy who raised her hand which was dripping now, slowly.

And then the archway crumbled more and a fierce spray of water drenched the Slytherin's – rendering them soaking wet. It was Blaise who noticed the smell first.

"What is that – is that… that smells like piss!"

And then the Slytherins began screaming, drawing the attention of multiple adults who rushed over – but the water had stopped spraying, and miraculously the top of the Slytherin's clothes were dry now – all that was left were their dripping trousers, leaving behind a faint golden-green puddle where they stood.

"Disgusting! The children wet themselves!" exclaimed one portly man with a long ginger beard, gagging.

A ring of party-goers, including the minister had gathered around and started laughing at the children – all were laughing but for a few parents whose eyes were narrowed in silent rage.

Harry and Draco knew better than to be around, and instead stayed to watch from a distance with grins upon their faces. Grins that faded in a moment when they felt the hands of Lucius and Narcissa clap their shoulders.

"I'm regretting leaving you two on your own now," Lucius stated without a flicker of feeling.

"I'm sorry, Father," Draco uttered, looking down at his feet, one leg swinging ever so slightly.

"Sorry? Why are you sorry, Draco?" asked his mother, Narcissa. Draco and Harry blinked in surprise.

Lucius smiled faintly as he looked at them, "You weren't caught, nobody suspects you, and you humiliated those poor children – which I assume was the intention. It's a good lesson. You ruined their reputation without damaging your own. If anything, we're proud."

Harry didn't know what to say – instead looking at Draco who just looked back. There was a moment of shared silence.

"Come on then, let's head back home. You two have had enough fun for the night."


	7. Chapter 7

**Harry**

**31****st**** December, 1991, The Atlantic Ocean**

"So, it looked like they all wet themselves at the same time?" Elise asked, a single eyebrow arched with her lips pursed.

"Yes, my father said that eventually after they stopped laughing they decided that a pipe must have burst or something," Draco nodded in confirmation to Elise as Harry just leant back against the other side of the rich felt sofa opposite Draco, mussing up his short messy hair.

"Still, it was good to see them put in their place – even if for a brief time," Harry said as he leant back and sighed in content as his thoughts drifted back over the winter period.

"Oh! Did you both get what I sent you for Christmas?" Elise asked with a sly smirk as she eyed Harry's hair.

"Yeah, I did thanks – 'Get a haircut'. The book on duelling was appreciated though, I'll admit I'm a tad suspicious of why _I_ got one but Draco didn't," Harry said, his eyes narrowing as he levelled the accusation to Elise.

"Because you share the same room and were at the same place? You could both read it or use Draco's broom servicing kit," Elise explained patiently with only a roll of her eyes.

"Thank you, by the way, Elise," Draco added, uncharacteristically kind to her for once.

"No problem, Draco…" Elise trailed off, her eyes watching Draco like he was about to spring a trap on her.

"By the way, we did get you something – you just never told us your address in Bulgaria, so we waited to give it to you," Harry said with a grin before he jumped up and began to search through his trunk before pulling out a wooden box.

"Um, thanks for the box, Corvus, Draco. I'll think of you whenever I put anything in it," Elise commented, her voice a mixture of confusion and sarcasm.

"You are supposed to open it, you know," Draco said slowly, rolling his eyes as he leant forward – his interest piqued. It wasn't long before Elise began to fiddle with the metal clasp on the box and open it to reveal its contents.

"Oh, that's really good – is that a sketch of all of us?" Elise asked, pulling out a piece of parchment which had the impression of all three of them inscribed upon it. They were all smiling, sniggering at the back of the Charms class. Harry remembered the moment – they had been learning to make inanimate objects dance, and Elise had created a miniature version of Draco that danced like a ballerina.

"Yeah, Draco turned out to be a pretty good artist," Harry said whilst he looked across at Elise, watching her blue eyes shine with warm affection. Draco gave a modest shrug in an effort to appear humble – something that his near constant smirk made impossible.

"Well, I have been doing it for a while."

"Thanks, Draco," Elise said before she pulled out a clear glass ball with runic etchings upon the glass, an ornate gold band forming an 'X' around the glass. Harry grinned as he looked at it – before he gave a long, disappointed sigh.

"You know, I really had hoped it'd go all smoky as soon as you picked it up," he said wistfully.

Elise blinked in confusion, and then recognition as she looked towards Harry, "You got me a remembrall! But I'm not that forgetful?" she finished with an upwards inflection in her voice.

"You always forget your notes for potions," Draco pointed out, taking a sharp tone with her as she returned a sly look towards her friend.

"I don't _forget_ by accident. I forget it on purpose," Elise explained, making air quotes in the air every time she mentioned forgetting something.

"I guess little miss perfect here isn't so perfect after all then," teased Harry before catching the remembrall that she threw at him deftly, "Oi, I paid for that," he complained as Draco gave a quiet laugh. Elise arched an eyebrow unabashed, before her façade cracked and she broke out into a smile.

"Sorry," she said wryly.

Harry gave her a grin, shook his head and casually threw the ball back to her. She caught it – barely – and put it back in the box along with the drawing before closing it again.

"How long is it until we get back to Durmstrang?" Draco asked, his gaze lingering on Elise expectantly as he ran a hand down the back of his head.

"Uh, it's about twenty minutes," Elise answered who looked over at Harry who was still residing in his day clothes – a white shirt and black trousers with an expensive open navy robe that had been a gift from Narcissa sprawled over the sofa. Harry pretended not to notice, fiddling with his aspen wand idly.

"Corvus, you need to change into your school clothes – well, at least a red cloak," Draco pointed out for Elise who gave him a gracious smile.

Harry gave a tremendous sigh as he kicked his legs into the air as he arose, yanking off his robe and shirt as he pulled down the trunk before he grabbed a red cloak and grey shirt from within. Elise's blue eyes looked over him, as did Draco's.

"You know, I'd have thought you'd put on muscle from all the training you're doing, I mean, Draco has," Elise pointed out, looking over at Draco whose form had grown slightly, mainly in height.

"Eh, probably just genetics," Harry shrugged before he pulled on the grey shirt as he began to button it up. Elise arched an eyebrow after his comment, just as Draco let out a snort of laughter.

"Genetics don't make someone skinny or big, moron. Besides, your dad is well built, so that wouldn't even work," Draco pointed out.

"Well, I don't know, magic or something. What else could it be?" Harry asked quizzically as he fastened on his crimson cloak.

"The fact that you don't eat nearly enough?" offered Elise.

"The fact that other than flying the only exercise you do is playing with your wand?" Draco suggested. Harry coughed loudly, his cheeks turning red as Elise gave a quiet giggle. Harry was struck by an inexplicable urge to punch Draco's smug face.

"I eat just as much as you do," Harry muttered as he fastened a silver and red insignia onto the crimson cloak, marking him out as a member of Red Team. It earned him a little respect from others he'd noticed – the quidditch team was prestigious in Durmstrang, or had been since Dimitri had taken control of it.

"Obviously not," Draco said as he fingered his own insignia, "I mean, I have a few snacks whilst you're practically abstinent."

"I'm just not hungry, so I don't eat," Harry explained slowly like he was speaking to a toddler.

"And that's why you're skinny," Elise answered in a similarly condescending tone which drew a groan from Harry who sat back down onto the sofa. Draco rolled his eyes and pulled down his trunk next to him within easy reach.

"Well, who cares about being skinny anyway?" Harry muttered to himself as Elise slid her presents into her well organized trunk – each type of clothing in its own area.

"When do we start lessons again? I've forgotten," Draco asked whilst he pulled out his onyx duelling insignia which he turned in his fingers, the numbers _2035_ flickering into life over the stone. Harry's own was position was not much higher at _2055_ – they had both broken Grindelwald's record, despite encountering difficulties along the way.

"You know, it's stupid but I kind of expected to advance just as quickly in the duelling club," Harry said, drawing a withering glance from Elise and Draco.

"Don't you remember what Dimitri said? He said that getting to two thousand is easy, but because you don't have shit duellists anymore it gets harder – and there are less duellists to fight even further," Elise reminded Harry, locking up her trunk again and leaning it against her own sofa.

"And he did say that once you get past two thousand seven hundred, you will lose half your matches no matter how good you are," Draco added.

"I know, but, still, you hear it but you never _realize_ what it means," Harry defended, raising his hands as he rolled his eyes. Draco and Elise snorted derisively and they all relaxed – enjoying the silence that ensued.

It wasn't much longer until they arrived at the docks – marching towards the portkey next to a frozen river. Draco was the one to point it out to them – they weren't at the same place as they were last time they arrived at the school.

"So, they _do_ change it every time – guess that's why it's hard to find the school," Harry said as they marched through the snow – the portkey that had taken them to the grounds that now faded into the treeline behind them.

"That's just the tip of the iceberg," Elise muttered, "When Harfang Munter took control, and he made certain to reinforce Durmstrang's defences – to which we never figured out the full extent of."

"… So, like what?" Draco asked with a roll of his eyes whilst Harry only looked at Elise patiently as he waited for her to carry on.

"Well, first of all it's unplottable but that's not really unexpected. What marks it as unique is only the head master ever knows where it is," Elise explained as she brushed the falling snowflakes out of her fair brown hair as she spoke – her pale skin substantially more white than usual with any crystalline snowflakes that fell upon her exposed skin turned almost invisible.

"Surely you could just follow an owl here, however?" Draco asked. The white blonde hair that Draco possessed bore a similar effect to Elise's skin, making his hair almost sparkle in the moonlight. Harry felt almost out of place next to Draco and Elise who looked almost ethereal, his black hair looking only as if he had bad dandruff – his fair skin looked only as if it were blemished by the snow.

"No, there's magic that makes it appear to fly a different direction than it does – and even if you managed to find this area, there's a magical barrier of energy that cannot be breached," Elise explained patiently, waving a hand towards the silhouettes of the mountains that encircled the valley that was lit by moonlight. The same moonlight that played upon the surface of the lake.

"So that's why we use a portkey, right? So why can't we just apparate in?" asked Harry.

"Only the headmaster can make the portkeys, as he is taught how by the last one – other than that, you can't apparate into, or disapparate out of the valley," Elise explained.

"Oh," Harry said, feeling stupid for having missed something so obvious.

"Is that all? I think Hogwarts has similar defences," Draco pointed out as they approached the gates of Durmstrang.

"That's only the stuff I know – and nobody knows all the defences. The school is basically a fort," Elise said, "You know, if you actually read about the school you might not have to get me to explain everything to you."

"But we love hearing your angelic voice, Elise, why would we ever want you to stop talking?" Harry said with a smirk etched across his face before he ducked in reaction to a jelly-legs jinx fired at him by Elise – the blue light fizzling out some distance away.

"Anyway, I'll see you both tomorrow. I'm going to go unpack and get some sleep. Night," Elise said with a wave before narrowing her blue eyes towards Harry who just waved and grinned back. It didn't take long for Harry and Draco to get back to their room and dump the contents of their trunks all over the floor. They lit the fire and climbed into bed, hiding from the cold under the thick duvets.

**5****th**** January, 1992, Durmstrang**

Sweat dripped from Harry's brow as he walked into the dining hall of Durmstrang and slumped down next to Elise, Draco joining them on the other side of the table. Harry leant his broomstick against the table as gently as he could – it was still in the pristine condition he had received it in at Christmas.

Brandon and Ash slumped down on either side of the bench opposite Harry, besides Draco. Sweat was trickling down their red faces as they grinned at Draco and Harry.

"Nimbus two thousands? Rich bastards," Brandon said as he ran a sweaty hand back through his thick ginger hair – which drew out a disgusted grimace from Elise.

"They were Christmas presents from our fathers," Draco explained with a teasing smirk, his eyes glancing to Ash who only rolled her eyes at him in response. Brandon started to undo his red robes, drawing Elise's eyes to the tight black shirt and trousers underneath.

"Hey, Elise," Harry said quickly, perturbed by the way Elise's eyes fixated on his teammate, "Do you wanna head outside in a bit with me and Draco?"

Elise blinked and looked at Harry with a smile, "Sure, should be fun."

Ash gave a snicker as she looked at Harry before she sent him a knowledgeable wink. She rolled her shoulders before leaning forwards to speak to her peers, "So, the season's starting soon – six games from March to the end of May. You two fit for it? If not, Krum will throw a fit."

Draco gave a brief nod but Harry shifted uncomfortably, "Fit? What would you consider fit?" Harry asked.

Brandon looked Harry up and down with a frown, "Well, it depends – keepers and beaters should be a bit more bulky than chasers or the seeker, but you should still be quite strong. I mean, look at Krum, guy's an athlete through and through – five days a week training in the gym, seven on the pitch. He's lean, you'd think him thin if you hadn't seen him unrobed. People underestimate it – we may be flying around, but that's still hard work."

Ash gave a sigh, "What B.B failed to answer in his fangirling of Krum, is that you should be able to do forty press ups in two minutes, run one and a half miles in about nine minutes, and do eight consecutive good pull ups. But, for your age, doing around fifteen press ups, running eight hundred metres and three or four pull ups should be fine, Corvus."

Harry sighed – he could probably run eight hundred metres quite easily, but he was quite weak – and he didn't exactly want to admit to Krum how physically disappointing he was. Draco however, asked Harry's question for him.

"What should we do if we want to train for that?" he asked, fooling no one that he was asking for himself.

"Well, honestly, Viktor's a good shout for that. He will help you – but you could just do it in your rooms and you'd be fine, it's not the hardest thing to train for," Brandon answered with a shrug. Harry gave a nod, letting out a breath of relief. Elise just patted his shoulder in an almost reassuring manner – her smile sympathetic.

"Anyway, we'll get off, leave you three to your breakfast. See you later," Ash said as she stood up as she tugged at Brandon's sleeve to make him stand. He took his time, before he gave a mocking salute and hurrying out just behind Ash.

"Are those two dating or something?" asked Harry who watched them leave before he turned back around to tuck into a sausage sandwich that drizzled juices and tomato sauce.

"I hope not," Elise muttered under her breath, barely loud enough for Harry to hear – her adoration of Brandon bemused Harry, but he also felt slightly uncomfortable with it for some reason that he couldn't quite put his finger on. Draco raised his hands, palms facing the ceiling – he seemed rather nonplussed.

"I don't know, but I doubt it. Just good friends, I think," Draco said.

Harry exhaled slightly before he started to speak in between bites, "Well, we can head – outside after breakfast. I'll – grab a thick cloak."

Draco and Elise nodded, starting to dig into their own breakfasts in silence, happy to enjoy each other's company.

* * *

When the three headed out into the snow blanketed valley they headed down towards the edge of the lake that had just started to freeze over. The snow underfoot was thick – at least six inches deep, threatening to creep over the top of their thick, black, militaristic boots. When they found a decent spot to sit at – in the cover of a tree that helped them evade some of the light snowfall – they used a heating charm to melt away the snow nearby and give them somewhere dry to sit.

"How was your Christmas, anyway, Elise?" asked Draco who leaned forward and placed three bottles of butterbeer upright in the snow to chill.

"Um, I saw Viktor there, at the ball that is. We spent most of the ball together talking as the rest of our families argued with one another. I hate my family – they just rant about muggles and muggleborns, how they 'shouldn't be allowed to use magic'. It's stupid," Elise ranted quietly. Harry watched Draco shifted uncomfortably next to her as she talked about muggles, opening his mouth before closing it.

"I'm sorry it was so bad," Harry said soothingly, sliding an arm around her shoulders comfortingly. She nodded, leaning in to him slightly, though Harry suspected it was more because she was getting a bit cold rather than any form of affection.

"Well, I enjoy spending time with my mom, and the presents are always nice, I guess there's always that," Elise said, Draco nodding in agreement.

"Yeah, but it'd suck having to spend your Christmas with family that are that judgemental," Harry said.

"I guess. Either way, I'm back now – I wonder what we'll be studying now we're back? We finished off a lot of stuff before Christmas," Elise said, pulling out a book on transfiguration from under her coat. The book's cover was worn, brown leather, and its pages yellowing.

"I believe that we'll be beginning to study for the end of year exams," Draco pointed out as he gathered some snow in his hand, forming a snowball as he eyed Harry and Elise.

"Don't even think about it," warned Harry as he glanced up from the book he had been reading over Elise's shoulder before he was promptly hit in the face by snow that exploded and showered Elise and her book, soaking both.

"You ass!" screeched Elise as Harry let out a delighted howl, shifting away from Elise towards the snow and gathering up a ball as another white blob sailed over him with icy fragments sailing off from its mass. Harry retaliated – the snowball colliding into Draco's crimson padded shoulder who blinked in surprise and drew his wand, flicking it upwards with an inaudible incantation to form a wall of snow to hide behind – though the wall was barely stable – and was rapidly falling apart as another snowball slammed into it.

"Oh, we're playing that game are we?" Harry yelled as he drew his aspen wand – its pristine white surface almost invisible against the snow. He gave a swish of his wand before flicking upwards.

"_Wingardium Leviosa!_" he cried as multiple snowballs rose up before being shot towards Draco and his wall which fell apart – to reveal Draco crouched down with an overly large snowball in his free hand which was flung into Harry's face.

"Not a chance, Corvus! Not a chance!" Draco bragged, before he hesitated as he spotted something in his peripheral vision, a hesitation which left him vulnerable to the tidal force of snow that engulfed both of the boys. Knocked down to the ground and soaked they panted loudly, their wands left somewhere in the snow mound generated by Elise's furious spellwork.

A minute passed as they were left there red faced and panting before Elise started giggling quietly, slumping down to her knees in the deep snow. It wasn't long before Harry joined in – laughing feverishly as Draco sat up and burst into loud snickers as he tried - in vain - to restrain himself.

They stayed that way for a long time, not bothering to move despite the frigid weather.

"So, I guess that Elise wins her first duel – and against both of us at the same time," Harry said after a while with a broad grin.

"Shut up, I've won before – but yeah, I'm counting this," Elise said with a smirk.

"Never against _us_," Draco reminded her.

Elise just shook her head, her triumphant grin unable to be removed from her face, even for the next few hours they spent together.

**8****th**** March, 1992, Durmstrang**

Harry's pulse was racing as he stood beside Draco in his red robe, his hand clutched around the polished mahogany handle of his broom, the white of his knuckles pressing through the taut skin of his hand.

"I want you to remember the game plan – Ash, Miranda, your main job this game is to protect Corvus and Draco, don't actively seek to incapacitate other players but take the chance if it presents itself," Krum said loudly – his voice carrying to each member of the team, "As Draco's the best shooter, he'll be the forward, Corvus will be the mid, and Alex, you'll be defending," Krum announced.

Alex let out a groan at this – he was a brilliant defender and could very easily play professionally in a few years, but he despised the position.

"Shut it, Alex. I'll make the other seeker crash; all you have to focus on is outscoring the yellow bastards," Krum finished before hitting his chest with his free hand – a gesture that everyone on the team emulated and Dimitri finished off at the back.

They started to move forwards through the stone passageway; the warm light of the torches casting harsh shadows upon their faces. The doors were just ahead – light seeping in through the cracks in the wood. As they reached the door they waited for their cue.

Trumpets bellowed, and the doors swung open; Harry and the team bathed in blinding light.

What Harry beheld made his jaw drop – the pitch and its stands usually empty were filled with what seemed to be the entire school - teachers and students communed together. The other team adorned in their yellow coats were already in the air, flew above the centre.

"And, here are the Red Team! Holding an unbroken win streak of five games from last season, we must wonder whether that record will hold past today," the announcer's voice was loud, masculine and clearly belonged to a seventh year – and judging by the mix of jeers and cheers from the crowd, he had some experience with the crowd, Harry thought.

"Mount!" barked Krum. The team didn't waste any time as they swiftly obeyed; Harry slipped a leg over his Nimbus two-thousand and held onto the broom with both hands, eager to take off.

"To the centre!" was Krum's command. Harry kicked off from the ground, and he suddenly felt free – as if a heavy weight had been removed from his chest. As they began to near the centre, Krum flicked his hand to Draco and Harry who nodded in response. Krum had told them to fly a lap around the pitch on their first game so that everyone would be acquainted with the new recruits; Elise had said it was standard practice to do so, and nothing to worry about.

Harry felt that last assessment slightly inaccurate, if only due to the jeers that the north side of the field threw at them as they flew around before returning to the centre with their hair a mess.

"Krum and Didalo have shook hands, and we have seen the red team's new recruits – Malfoy and Black! They are young – but whether they're green remains to be seen. We now only await the quaffle for the game – and the season - to start," cried out the announcer.

Karkaroff was clad in his silver furs as he marched out into the centre of the pitch holding the quaffle under his arm. His beard looked oiled with the way it glistened in the afternoon sun.

He raised his fingers to his lips, holding the quaffle firmly in his free hand. Harry felt a bead of sweat drip down the side of his head, glancing over at Draco who was just slightly ahead and above of him looking determined. Karkaroff whistled sharply, the noise cutting across the silence of the stadium – the quaffle thrown into the air as noise erupted all around them like the firing of a cannon.

Harry surged forward towards the ball, his body flat against the broom with his hand outstretched – but he wasn't the only one travelling towards the quaffle, a chaser from the yellow team was also accelerating at a rapid speed towards the ball.

It was Harry's fingers that grasped around the quaffle that had just begun to dip, but the yellow chaser's hand clawed at Harry who sharply turned away from his opponent.

"Alex!" Harry yelled out over the wind and roar of the crowd before he threw the ball towards the older boy who caught it and darted forwards and ducking under the swing of a beater's bat.

With only two chasers up field Harry was forced to take a deep breath and shoot forward, body pointed like an arrow forward as he raised a hand to catch the quaffle which was thrown to him just in time to avoid a beater's attempt to knock it out of Alex's hand.

Draco wasn't far ahead, a clear shot on the hoops open to the blonde boy. Harry's eyes narrowed behind his glasses before shooting forwards and to Draco's right, throwing the ball just ahead of him. The crowd held their breath and then a roar of support echoed throughout the grounds – Draco had caught the ball, and was open on goal, the yellow defender nowhere near him. Malfoy lined up the shot and threw to the left – the keeper dived for it, before the hoop hit the rim of the right hoop and bounced in.

"And Malfoy feints the keeper! What an embarrassment for Harvey, an embarrassment that has made the game ten to nothing only a minute in! The ball is se-"

The announcer was interrupted by a resounding crunch and scream as Krum was pulling up from the ground. Harry blinked and peered closer as play stopped – and even from across the pitch he could see the other seeker's arm bent back upon its elbow; the jagged white surface of which protruding from his arm.

"Bloody hell," Harry muttered under his breath as the other seeker was floated off of the pitch by the nurse before a whistle blew and the frenzy began again; the announcer's voice incomprehensible. Harry was shooting straight for the yellow defender who nursed the ball close to his chest as he advanced up the pitch. _I can grab it from him before he can throw it_, Harry thought as he outstretched a hand for the ball.

The other chaser slammed his shoulder into Harry's and sent him pirouetting through the air on the back of his broom as he tried to regain control and avoid falling to his death. Once he had regained control, Harry turned to look at them advancing forward –he took a moment to regain his breath – and then accelerating towards his team, eager to help. He was too late – by the time he had regrouped with the rest of his team the quaffle was sailing past Brandon into the central hoop.

"Ten to ten! Yellow team evens the score! The red team look like children trying to swat at wasps!" exclaimed the announcer to a roar of approval from the crowd.

Harry took in a deep breath, and shot forward to receive the pass from Alex before performing a barrel roll to avoid the swiping hand of an enemy chaser, moving as fast as he could towards the hoops, Draco at his side.

"Corvus!" screamed Draco just as the yellow team beater moved to mark him. Harry hesitated – he swung the ball towards Draco, but threw it behind himself to Alex just as a bludger dashed past Harry's ear; the air stinging his eyes.

Sweat beaded upon Harry's brow and ran down the surface of his glasses as he trailed Draco, staying a few metres behind – only stopping when Draco sent the ball through the hoops.

"It's an end to end game today, Malfoy scores again! Twenty to ten for the Red Team." The announcer's voice was almost lost over a sudden uproar from the crowd as the yellow beater's bat connected with Alex's shoulder with a sharp crack.

Alex, however, did not seem phased; going so far as to simply yank his shoulder back into place with a grimace whilst play was stopped and the referee, Karkaroff, waved for a penalty shot which Draco floated up to take.

Truthfully, Harry was glad that there was a pause in the play – he found himself tired and sweaty already, even despite his extensive training for the season; a fact that he would be reluctant to have Krum discover.

"And Draco Malfoy scores! This new aspirant is excelling thus far in the game – what potential he has. Thirty to ten to the Red Team – the yellows are starting to fall pretty far behind now, will they be able to pull it back?" wondered the announcer.

But it seemed that the yellow team were inclined to disagree, as over the next fifteen minutes they managed to score one hundred and forty points, whilst the red team struggled to gain their fifty. As the scores reached eighty to one hundred and fifty, the team began to lose their will – Brandon was slower on the uptake, and even more sluggish at moving, and Miranda would struggle to defend Harry from bludgers in time.

"And that's one hundred and sixty to eighty! The yellow team has twice the points of the red team – and there's no sighting of the Snitch just yet! If the Red Team's chasers don't turn around, Krum's efforts could be for nought!" roared the announcer as the quaffle just skimmed Brandon's fingertips.

"Ash! Miranda! Stop defending Draco and Corvus and knock those fuckers down!" yelled Krum from above – his eyes never ceasing to scan the pitch.

Harry felt vulnerable as his two guardian angels abandoned him – the wind suddenly seemed to sting a lot more, and the quaffle felt heavier in his hands when he caught it. He wasted no time however – and sped forwards, weaving around his opponent and accelerate towards the hoops.

_Please let Draco be next to me_, he thought as he threw the ball to his right as subtly as he could – still accelerating forward, two chasers tailing him.

"Oh what a move that was! Those two are a menace together, the yellow team would be worried if it weren't for their lead!" crowed the announcer as Harry cursed loudly. The two chasers abandoned their pursuit of Harry, switching their focus to Draco who threw the ball straight past the distracted keeper.

"One hundred and sixty to ninety! Is this the start of a turnaround or- son of a bitch!" yelled the announcer as the bat of the yellow team captain rapped Draco around the head, knocking him not only from his broom, but from consciousness. He was falling quickly – and gaining speed.

Harry pressed himself flat against his broom and sped forwards in a sharp dive; legs wrapped around his nimbus and wand in his hand ready to catch Draco who was rapidly approaching the grassy pitch.

"_Wingardium Leviosa_!" he cried desperately as Draco rushed towards the ground.

Draco's body slowed and floated in midair much to Harry's relief – but the danger wasn't over, for now Harry was stuck in a very sharp, fast dive. He allowed Draco to drop – gently – to the ground, stowing his wand quickly as he gripped the bow of his broom as tightly as he could and pulled up with all his strength, his knuckles white against his flushed skin.

Harry's hands met the ground first as he skimmed across it like a rock across the surface of a lake, bouncing and rolling across the pitch where he lay for a few moments panting loudly.

"And Black manages to save his teammate in time! Of course, it was an unnecessary gesture – he would have been safe! Mostly."

Harry groaned as he sat up, wincing as he grasped Krum's hand and was pulled sharply up – his face felt tender, as did his ribs and arms. However, he doubted he felt half as bad as Leo Didalo who was being harassed by the rest of his team and threatened by Ash waving her bat dangerously close.

"You probably saved him from a week in the hospital, Corvus – there's a good chance they'll give Didalo to Karkaroff for punishment," Krum said darkly, staring daggers into the opposing captain past his team.

"To Karkaroff?" Harry asked numbly, tasting blood upon the tip of his tongue.

"Yes, he tends to use a mix of curses and canes for punishment," answered Krum who brushed down Harry's back gently and handed him his broom, "You'll be taking the penalty for Draco."

Harry gave a feeble nod and flew back up until he was hovering in front of the hoops for the yellow team. He took the time waiting for them to catch his breath that agitated his raw throat. It was a few minutes until the whistle blew for the penalty.

The crowd held its breath – and Harry could feel their eyes upon him. He was thrown the quaffle by Harvey, their keeper, and Harry gripped it tightly as he eyed up the hoops. _He's not that tired, we haven't put him through much_, observed Harry who realized very quickly that his best chance was to try and send the ball bouncing off the rim in through the hoop – the keeper would be able to catch it otherwise, as he had done for the majority of the game.

Harry took the shot, his body twisting as he threw it and his arm sailed forward, the ball propelled towards the rim that it bounced off of.

"And he misses! A near miss, if you ask me, but still a miss! Black will be hearing about that for the rest of the season."

Harry's failure set the tone of the game for his team; with a man down they failed to get the ball forward, and struggled even more to defend against the yellow onslaught who managed to tear past them and score again and again and again. It wasn't long before the game was two hundred and seventy to ninety, and that was when Krum caught the snitch – ending the game at two hundred and seventy to two hundred and forty. The first defeat of the season, and in five games for Red Team.

They were all silent as they marched into the showers, and silent when they walked out and changed again – even Brandon didn't say anything which was surprising consider it was near impossible to get him to shut up under normal circumstances.

"Sorry, by the way," muttered Harry to them all as he pulled on his crisp white shirt – his green eyes not quite meeting theirs.

"Sorry? For missing the shot?" asked Miranda in a state of confusion before planting a hand on Harry's shoulder, "You know none of us blame you right? After they knocked out Draco, we never stood a chance of keeping up with them."

"Yeah, don't worry about it Corvus," Ash nodded as she pulled on her shirt and fastened the front again before she looked over at Brandon who was still pulling on his jumper over his broad shoulders.

"Still, if I'd scored we might have been able to catch up a little easier," Harry protested before Krum snorted loudly as he stood up to face the much smaller boy.

Krum finished started to speak and the entire team listened even whilst preoccupied with pulling on their clothes and spraying deodorant, "Might have, if, whether, and should haves have no place in this team. You missed, we lost; we'll deal with it. There's a reason I use Draco up front and not you – do you think I expected you to score that? You did well, we all played to the best we could, but our best just wasn't good enough today,"

**Dumbledore**

**12****th**** March, 1992, Hogwarts**

"So your attempts to push forward the law and Potter's case reopening _both_ failed?" Snape asked incredulously.

"Aye, but not for a lack of trying," Moody said, his magical eye boring a hole through Snape's skull – something that bothered most people, but not Dumbledore's most faithful friend.

"It would have been nice if either had passed, but that was not my intention. It was to reveal who didn't want the Potter case reopened. It revealed some odd – but unsurprising – names," Dumbledore spoke softly, looking up at his three friends from behind his desk.

"And they were?" Lupin asked curiously, his fingers flittering over his ragged jacket – a state that bothered Albus immensely. He had a solution – but he did not know if Lupin would be willing to accept his proposal.

"Cornelius Fudge, which implicates Lucius Malfoy. It's not a very well hidden fact that Fudge relies on Lucius for advice, so any move taken by him is likely to have been approved by Malfoy at the least," explained Dumbledore, looking to Mad-Eye.

"I don't understand the dark bastard's intentions. Why would Malfoy care if the case was reopened? We know it was Black," Moody snarled, his scarred visage twisting grotesquely as he shifted his weight slightly onto his staff.

"You forget, Moody, that the Malfoy pup and Black are close friends – indeed, Black attended the ministry ball with him and his parents," Snape said, his voice slow and precise as he held his hand over his black robes.

"So, you're saying that Malfoy is allied with Black? Why hasn't he tried to help him before now?" Lupin asked only for Moody to give a grunt and shrug.

"We don't know, but my personal speculations are that they allied because of their sons. It's a silly move – if Corvus is Harry, then he's being exposed publically. If he isn't, then we have another lead," Dumbledore said with conviction, an air of relief present within his soft but determined words.

"So we're going after Malfoy. That's why I'm here," Moody said in his deep, guttural voice, "I'm going to search his manor and see if we find anything – if any one of us was idiotic enough to go after him, then he'd use his money to get rid of us."

Lupin's lips were pressed tight together, a knot forming between his brows, "Let me come with you, I can help – and if Sirius is hiding there, then I want to see him."

Moody considered Lupin for several long minutes before he gave an affirmative nod to the rugged man, "You can tag along."

"Either way – we have other pressing matters at hand. Quirrell is getting closer to moving past our obstacles," Snape stated, his voice cold and sharp as he reminded them all of the imminent danger.

"He will not get past my obstacle, Severus, there is no need for worry," reassured Dumbledore, looking up into his friends black eyes that were much alike the black lake in winter – cold, dark, and hiding what's below the surface.

"And Longbottom? He seems rather determined to get past those obstacles with his idiot of a friend Weasley too. They'll probably be killed just by Sprout's plant. Neither of those two have any brains or talent, and seem to despise the single Gryffindor in their year who has both. Weasley's treatment of her is bordering on bullying," Snape snapped – and Dumbledore recalled he had been teaching them only an hour ago.

"I'd advise you speak to Minerva if you are worried for Granger, Severus – I must say, I am quite proud of you looking after your students in such a way."

Lupin grinned at the scowling Snape, knowing full well the effect it had on his childhood enemy. Dumbledore allowed himself a brief smile – the marauder's rivalry with Snape was bemusing in hindsight, and romantic when viewed through the nostalgia of James and Lily's loving relationship.

"She should have been a Slytherin, or at least a Ravenclaw. If it were not so absurd, I would accuse the damned hat of giving Gryffindor Granger just to give them a fighting chance," Snape accused, the hat stirring slightly as it seemed to twitch upon its shelf.

"You're still a miserable git aren't you, Severus?" grumbled Moody who was still leant on his staff – moving almost as little as a statue.

Dumbledore tutted, but more in jest than disapproval, "Come now, Moody. Either way, we can dissuade Longbottom from his endeavours as noble as they may be – Corvus Black remains the most pressing and important matter as of the current time."


	8. Chapter 8

**Harry**

**10****th**** March, 1992, Durmstrang Institute**

"Corvus Black, Draco Malfoy – would you both please report to Dimitri immediately," the seventh year said with a flat tone that spoke volumes about just how boring he found his task.

"Why?" Draco asked as all three of them asked turned around in their seats to look at the tall, scrawny seventh year who just gave a shrug before he turned and left, faint indecipherable mutters audible in the transfiguration class room for a while as Draco and Harry gathered their things.

"Why do you think he wants to see you?" asked Elise, her brows drawn together and lips pursed in a state of irritated confusion.

"I've no idea," answered Harry as they headed out of the classroom and into the deserted corridors.

"You know, Dimitri timed it perfectly – it's five minutes to his classroom from ours, and there was five minutes of the lesson left," Draco pointed out as they walked across the school to Dimitri's room.

"So I guess that means he wanted to talk to us about something in private?" considered Harry with a frown. Neither of them knew what Dimitri wanted – it felt almost conspiratorial, heading to meet with the teacher after class hours. They both had twilight charms later on in the evening as well, and they wouldn't want to miss out – the teacher was going to give a lecture on conjuration.

"And so, the diameter of the flame is affected by the circular motions of the wand – if it were to be continued – with a relative factor of about ten times the diameter of the movement of the wand. This means, if I were to create a circle with a diameter of half a metre with my wand, the flames around me would be roughly five metres in diameter," Dimitri finished just as the bell erupted into noise – an alarm that had the students grabbing their stuff so they would be ready to leave as soon as they were dismissed, "I expect an essay upon the effect of wand motion on spells by next Friday, dismissed. Come in Draco, Corvus."

Harry and Draco shuffled inside as the rest of the fourth year class escaped – chagrined mutters about their homework audible for a few lingering moments. Harry dropped his bag on the floor, an act Draco mirrored.

"Why are we here, sir?" asked Harry in a mix of curiosity and petulance.

"I need to inform you about a brilliant opportunity for both of you – you'll be aware of the international tournament that takes place each year. Well, it turns out that Hogwarts is entering it in your third year," Dimitri said in a tone of mild interest as his eyes searched Harry and Draco's faces for a reaction.

"And? That's a year away and so what?" Harry said whilst Draco's eyes widened.

"Durmstrang has two British students – if it can beat Hogwarts with us, then we and the school would prove ourselves better than theirs. It'd be a farce."

Dimitri nodded at Draco's statement, "Correct. The reaffirmation that Karkaroff would receive from would be staggering. And you both would develop a name for yourselves – the issue is, however, that no one has ever managed to get into the tournament in their third year. You'll have to prove that you're absolutely incredible to Karkaroff to even put forward the idea of him placing you in the roster."

"But wouldn't he want us in there anyway, if we could humiliate Hogwarts?" asked Draco in confusion.

"It'd reinforce Hogwart's position as the best for British children and make fools of Durmstrang if you lose. Karkaroff wouldn't risk that unless he's certain you could beat them," explained Dimitri patiently.

"Wait, but wouldn't Hogwarts be sending their seventh years into the competition?" Harry asked, a sudden worried expression creeping over his face.

"Yes, but their best duellists are shit. They haven't had a proper duelling club for years. Talented at magic, maybe, but look at Elise – an incredible witch but terrible duellist," Dimitri pointed out, "But you'd probably have to get to the level of a sixth or very good fifth year duellist here in your third year. You're both already at the level of a good second year, but after the fourth year it's a huge leap rather than the tiny jumps it is early on."

"So basically, we'd have to study harder than usual," confirmed Harry.

"No, studying just teaches you theory and duelling is all about practicality. You will need to train as much as you can. Bring Elise along if you want, but if you want to take this opportunity you can't just expect to get it by reading a new book every week," Dimitri cut over Harry, his tone sharp as he reprimanded him.

"We can do that, you saw how far we both had come after Christmas," Draco said with his usual air of self-assured confidence.

"You did well," admitted Dimitri, resting a finger upon his lips as he speculated silently, "but you'd need to be making that level of progress consistently from now on."

"We can do that," Harry said as he looked over to Draco who nodded in confirmation.

"Well, then I want you both to prove your skills to me right now. You will cast the spells I ask of you upon whatever I tell you to, do you understand?" Dimitri asked, his voice low and demanding as he spoke to them. Draco and Harry gave an affirmative nod before Dimitri planted a hand on each of their backs, "Follow me, then."

Dimitri led them to an area of the school they had not been to before, and judging by the numerous caged animals, gothic weapons and metal dummies it was for the student's own safety. Dimitri gave little care to that however and simply made them practice out a routine of the various spells they had learnt over the Christmas holidays. Whenever they made a mistake Dimitri would hit them with a minor stinging hex. Harry found himself sweating profusely only a half hour into the session; a surging headache had started to form inside his head like a knot that just couldn't be undone.

"You're good, but you still make mistakes. You should be able to throw out _at least_ fifty of each of these curses before your arm even shakes." Dimitri was ruthless in his drills and it was only after an hour he let them have a break.

"Can't we stop now?" asked Harry as he adjusted his glasses, "We've been at it for an hour and it'll be twilight charms soon."

"You can go after this next part – I want to see how you've progressed with the conjunctivitis curse. Corvus, you're first." Dimitri gestured to a cage only a meter away from where they were standing; inside was a rabbit that was idly scratching its ear with its hind leg.

"What, you want me to cast it on the rabbit?" Harry asked in a hollow tone with his eyebrows raised. He didn't raise his wand yet – this had to be some kind of joke, he thought.

"Of course – I was hardly going to ask you to try it upon me or Draco," Dimitri said as Draco rolled his eyes. At Christmas Draco had suggested trying it upon animals but Harry had found he lacked the nerve to do so – it seemed a perverse violation of the animal, almost. It was silly really – what was the difference of performing the spell upon an animal as opposed to a man or woman? Yet, it was that helplessness that made Harry hesitate.

"Can't we, you know, not use an animal? It can't exactly defend itself," Harry asked, his voice quiet and shaken.

"That's half of the point; it allows you to practice the fundamentals of the spell without worrying for having a spell shot back at you. Stop being childish and cast the bloody spell, Corvus."

Harry brought his wand up to point it towards the rabbit whose black eyes bore into Harry's own questioningly, unaware of what was about to happen.

"_Oculustio_," Harry whispered as he performed a flourish of his wand. The spell incited only the most pathetic effect in the rabbit – it only squirmed uncomfortably and shook its head.

"Honestly, you need to mean it. You'll get nowhere if you won't even cast the spell on a bloody rabbit," Dimitri said without his usual patience.

Harry squeezed his eyes shut momentarily as he concentrated – he didn't really want to do this, but then again, nothing good came without a price. If he wanted to truly prove he was the best – not only at Durmstrang but in Britain – then he'd have to put aside his misgivings. The idea of him stood above the crowd, the lone victor of the tournament was intoxicating. It felt as if he was drowning in his own ambition. "_Oculustio_."

The spell took immediate effect when it struck the rabbit – there was a series of confused blinks before it started scurrying around in a panic; the rabbit slipped and slid into the walls of its cage as it squeaked in desperation. Harry would have felt sick but the feeling was crushed underneath the sea of ambition that roiled within him.

"Better, much better," Dimitri said, "You've gotten along well with that curse that much is plainly obvious. Draco, you try." Harry didn't feel nervous as Draco aimed his own wand; he was far too focused upon his own victory, the praise that Dimitri had given him. It was only when Draco accomplished the spell upon his first attempt that he snapped out of his trance.

"Marvellous, Draco – you have a real flair for the dark arts," Dimitri complimented Harry's closest friend. Draco gave a humble nod of appreciation – the marks of weariness evident upon his face; Harry gritted his teeth as he watched his friend and did his best to remain impartial. _He's my friend_, Harry argued with himself, _I shouldn't be annoyed he did well._ After all – hadn't he been the one to try and encourage Draco?

It was silly and juvenile, even Harry knew that, but as he walked away with Draco, he couldn't help but feel the bitter seeds of resentment plant themselves within his mind.

**7****th**** April, 1992, Durmstrang Institute**

"So, I've had an idea."

Elise and Harry rolled their eyes in unison as Draco piped up and disturbed their exertions at the summoning charm – when Harry told Elise that he had started to attempt the spell she elected to aid him. Her help was welcome but it embarrassed Harry when she made much more significant progress with the spell then Harry who had a month's worth of experience on her.

"You know, after that debacle on the first you'd have thought you'd stop trying to actually carry out your ideas," Elise commented wryly; Draco's cheeks flushed in indignation. He opened his mouth to retaliate but before he could Harry spoke over him.

"How in the name of Merlin's saggy bollocks did you think that trapping Dimitri's desk to throw up on him was a good idea?"

"It was funny! Only you and Elise didn't like it."

"We didn't like it because Dimitri figured out we helped you and punished us too!"

"Maybe you and Corvus shouldn't have made it so obvious by looking at me when it happened then." Draco's voice cut silence across the three – they all knew he was right, but neither Harry nor Elise would admit it willingly.

"What was the idea anyway, Draco?" Harry asked in exasperation after yet another failed attempt at making his boot do anything more than wiggle slowly towards Harry.

"Well, we have been friends for a while, right?" Draco started receiving only tentative nods from both Elise and Harry, "Well, why don't we become blood brothers? …Well, blood siblings."

Harry's face flickered from a frown to a ponderous smile – it wasn't the worst idea in the world, and surely they could all only become closer as a result of it? However, it was evident that Elise wasn't thinking along the same lines as Harry when she voiced her misgivings.

"Isn't it a bit early for all that? We've been friends for not even a whole year; and on top of that, we still have six years ahead of us. Anything could happen."

"Elise has a point, you know," Harry said reluctantly – the idea still appealed to him but Elise's words seemed wise – wiser than she had a right to be, honestly, Harry thought.

"I suppose – but I have this feeling that we're going to be stuck with each other for a while yet."

"Still, Draco, it's a bit premature isn't it?" Elise said – her voice softened slightly but without abandoning her questioning tone. Harry, having given up his attempts at the summoning charm for the time being, turned around and paid closer attention to Elise whose defences seemed to be crumbling.

"Probably. But I doubt that we will all suddenly hate each other after the summer," Draco said with a shrug, "I mean, if you don't want to, it's fine."

"No, no. Maybe. How would we do it anyway, if we were going to?" asked Elise, her eyes fixing upon Draco who rolled his eyes.

"I mean, isn't it obvious? Just grab a knife from the hall."

Elise laughed quietly and laid her palm flat across her face, "Really? You do realize that the knives are summoned back to the kitchen after they leave the hall, right?"

Harry was confused – his brows drawing together, "How do you know that?"

"Some fifth year tried it with the knife stuffed down his trousers."

Harry winced – summoning charms weren't always well known for avoiding people in their effort to get to their desired location. Draco's face looked almost blank; his features drawn into a sullen frown. Harry was tempted to shake his shoulder but was beat to the chase by Elise, the movement snapping Draco out of his thoughts.

"Draco? What is it?"

"Well, we need to make it so that the knife won't be affected by the summoning charm," Draco explained, "but that means we'd have to do it in the hall, and know how to perform a summoning charm in the first place."

Both Harry and Draco simultaneously looked at Elise – they all knew that Harry was still a month away from being able to perform the charm, and that Elise was better at charms in general. She looked at them both, threw her hands up in the air and sighed.

"Fine, I'll try and do it."

Draco and Harry grinned momentarily, but Harry felt a tinge of unease – Draco knew that he couldn't perform the charm, it must make him seem weak. It's not like Draco was any better at charms though, he thought to himself, in fact, he was worse.

"Why do they not allow you to take knives out anyway? We learn more dangerous spells in most of our classes," asked Draco in a mixed tone of petulance and surprised curiosity.

"Isn't it obvious? If you're fighting with magic, at least you're learning and being a respectful witch. If not, you're more like a muggle."

"And we all know how much Durmstrang hates mud bloods," muttered Harry to a surprised glance from Elise and an agreeing nod from Draco.

"Watch your language, Corvus," Elise reminded him quietly – they all knew she was one of the few people at the school bothered by the term – which was odd considering that it was so common it was colloquial now.

Ignoring Elise's comment Harry carried on, "How would they make it so that after a certain threshold is crossed that the charm's activated though?"

"I imagine they simply enchanted the knives with the charm, and the charm is activated by some kind of magic in the threshold," Elise said, tapping her lips which were pursed in a frown, "but we need to understand how that threshold works. Like, what makes it actually activate the charm?"

Draco shrugged, "Maybe it's just tied into the enchantment itself? Or it could have been set up across the whole school – like each room or area has a magical boundary. That would be the smart choice."

"So they laid down, what, wards within the school, and then the enchantment on the knives… inherits from that?"

Harry gestured to Elise, "That makes sense. Magical enchantments and spells can get information from each other, I guess. Don't know how it even holds information though,"

"You want to know how? Magic," Draco said wryly.

They all gave a simultaneous snort of derision before Elise spoke again, her tone without more severe.

"No, but honestly, how does it do that? I mean, like, how does that work?"

"Honestly, of all the things about magic to question, you question that? I mean, if I had to guess – like, all spells are cast using some kind of incantation, usually with a grounding in our emotions or thought; the wand movement is crucial to a spell too. So it's more like we define what they do, and they don't… add anything onto that? It stays that way afterwards. It only does something if say, a condition of the definition is made true." Harry's speculation was based upon his admittedly fundamental understanding of magical theory. He knew it sounded stupid, but considering that none of them knew how it worked exactly it wasn't like he'd be alone in his efforts.

"This sounds awfully complex," Draco commented idly.

"Why do you think we study it for seven years?" Elise asked, her voice dripping with sardonic mockery.

"We could just ask Dimitri, you know?" Harry said with a frustrated sigh – Draco was a brilliant student and a prodigy much like Harry, but he always made himself out to be disinterested when he really wasn't – as if it made him seem more laid back. It frustrated Harry, what was the point in pretending? It's not like it ever got him anywhere he wouldn't have gotten anyway.

"He would probably want to know why we have developed a sudden interest in the topic," Draco pointed out, "and let's be honest, he's not likely to help us if we tell him why."

"We could lie."

"To _Dimitri_?" Elise gave Harry a quizzical look.

"You're right, stupid idea."

"I think you're right, by the way, Corvus; but you need to refine the idea," Elise said after a few minutes of silence.

"What? It's not like it'll be a new theory or anything, why refine an idea we'll learn in a year or two?"

"Because it puts you ahead of everyone else."

Elise's words had a profound effect on Harry – it was as if she had lit a fire underneath Harry. He allowed himself a brief smile before putting on a show of a grimace.

"You're right, but still, what if I'm wrong? I'll put myself further behind," Harry said, still pushing opposition towards Elise's idea despite the fire in his heart making him yearn to follow her advice.

"It's not like we are struggling to keep up with the classes, Corvus," Draco pointed out with a dismissive wave of his hand, "you should go for it."

Draco's input settled the matter – a fact that irked Harry more than it should. The ensuing silence was filled not of Harry's thoughts of glory, but worry that Draco would steal it from him. _I'll just have to be quicker than him_, Harry decided. He knew the feelings were silly – Draco was his friend, there was no reason to mistrust him.

* * *

Harry was sat in the corner of his room, Draco asleep under his covers and Elise clutching a book to her chest with her head leant against the wall. The parchment that Harry pored over held his theories and the final equation he had come up with to simplify everything that had come before.

"Elise, does this look alright to you?" Harry's voice was quiet; he didn't want to wake Draco.

She took a glance, confusion flittering across her features after a moment. "What does 'W' stand for?"

"W is wand movement."

Elise looked over the parchment again before she returned a nod to Harry. With her approval, Harry felt confident enough to put the parchment to the side, just out of sight of his bed so that he wouldn't obsess over it any more tonight.

"You know, if you keep this up, you might become better than even me at Charms and Transfiguration."

"Well, I did have to give you a head start to make it fair." Harry gave an almighty yawn as he stretched; arms raised high into the air.

"Sure you did," Elise teased, poking Harry in his ribs eliciting a startled shout from him as he leant away.

"Careful! Draco's asleep, we might wake him up."

"Oh come on, he's slept through worse." Elise was right – he didn't even stir when they had set off a firework in the room accidentally a month ago. It had become commonplace to guess at what it would take to wake Draco up from his slumber and the most common estimation ended up being an erupting volcano.

"True. Hey, you know – about Draco, do you think he's trying to prove anything?" Harry asked, his voice feeble and almost desperate. He wanted to rationalize his feelings, the fierce competitiveness that was growing inside his core like a bamboo tree. Except Harry felt like he was tied down over the bamboo.

"Well, apart from how little he cares, no. Why?"

"Well, I don't know…" That was a lie – he knew why. He felt threatened by Draco; Draco was the bamboo that would grow through his heart. But he didn't know why – they were friends. "I guess, I don't know – ever since Dimitri took us aside I feel like he's trying to, um, upstage me?"

Elise looked at him silently for a moment before placing her hand upon his shoulder and gave him a tentative smile, "Come on, you know he isn't. I think you're just now realizing how similar you both are. I mean, he felt threatened by you at Christmas, right? It's just that you're both the only real challenge to each other."

"Not being fair to yourself there, are you?" Harry muttered as he looked her in the eyes – they were pretty eyes, he thought.

"Come on, I might be better at a couple of subjects, but I'm a mediocre duellist."

"Mediocre? You're still one of the best in our year," Harry pointed out.

"And you and Draco are two of the best in the third year. Come on, be fair here, Corvus."

Elise had a point, as loath as Harry was to admit it – Harry disliked how similar he was to Draco in all aspects – he felt less special, he supposed, even with the fact that he was the boy who lived.

_Not like it matters much_, Harry thought bitterly, _they all think I'm someone else_. It surprised Harry how much it bothered him now – at the time he had been delighted to become his dad's son – because it had always been Sirius who had raised him, never James or Lily who his dad adored. But now, he felt like he was constantly having to bite his tongue. He disliked lying to his friends, disliked someone with a false name being accredited with what _Harry Potter_ had done.

"Yeah, you're right," Harry said blithely. Elise seemed slightly more satisfied to see her friend abandon some of his stress, she never seemed to think that her friend would pretend that there wasn't something weighing on his mind that he hid from her. She had too much trust, and too little paranoia.

"Alright, I'd better head off – we'll start experimenting tomorrow morning so I need the sleep. Night, Corvus," Elise said with a wave as she stood and walked through the doorway with her book held to her hip. Harry forced a smile and returned her wave before collapsing onto his bed in exhaustion after she shut the door.

**9****th**** June, 1992, Durmstrang Institute**

"How can removing an enchantment from a bloody knife be so hard?" asked Draco through gritted teeth, not bothering to hide his frustration as he stabbed a fork into his neatly cut sausage.

"Well, if _you_ want to try it, feel free." Elise's face was a bright red – at least, Harry thought it was, he could hardly see her under her mess of hair that hid her face from view. Her wand was slowly moving over the knife that was hidden by the book on enchanting that she had grabbed from the library. "I think I've nearly got it, anyway," she muttered under her breath.

Harry's breath caught in his throat as she spoke – in the time it had taken them to get to even this point he had learnt the summoning charm and would frequently summon things from his room to lessons. His teachers were impressed, but most of the other students were just tired of his attempts to show off. "What makes you think that, exactly?"

"Well, I'm able to summon it across the table to me now." It wasn't long ago that Elise had discovered an anomaly when it came to the knives and other cutlery – they couldn't be summoned. Draco had quickly theorized that it was due to the summoning charm that had been enchanted into the knives cancelling out any similar spells upon it. They'd guessed that they could gauge how much they were affecting the enchantment based upon what charms would affect it. Before, they had only been able to banish the knife, which had resulted in a trip to the infirmary for Harry.

"We should be close then," Draco said, his voice raising an octave in his excitement.

"No thanks to you," Harry muttered as he glanced around himself to make sure no teachers were approaching, "it was your idea to do the blood pact yet you've contributed nothing to the charms."

Draco winced but quickly covered the act with a roll of his eyes that Elise soon mirrored. "I'm no expert when it comes to charms, thus I just try to help in other ways. _Like_ doing Elise's dark arts and potions homework so that you could focus on this."

Harry inclined his head there – he had a point, however much he didn't want to admit it. Draco just tried to help in whatever way he could. However, it didn't mean it was any less frustrating when he sat there eating breakfast rather than actively helping Elise; he hated the fact Draco made Elise do most of the work.

"You both being quiet would help me enormously right now," Elise muttered before returning to whispering spells as she moved her wand over the steel surface of the knife. "I think I've got it. Corvus, try summoning it again."

Harry obeyed and murmured under his breath "_Accio knife_," his hand was ready to catch the knife that suddenly shot towards him handle first to fit comfortably inside his hand. There was a moment where none of them dared speak before Harry just slowly put the knife back on the table. "I um, I think it worked."

"What a brilliant observation that was, Corvus. Now, we just need to get it out of this room. Who's up for hiding it in their robes?" Nobody raised their hand in response to Draco's question. Harry imagined his worry was the same as everyone else's – that it would still be returned to the kitchen, whether they were in the way or not, and unveil their plot to the teachers. The risk of personal injury was not quite as intimidating as the fury – and disappointment – of the teachers.

Draco took a deep breath and sighed, "Alright then, since none of you want to do it, I shall." Elise blinked and Harry was rendered speechless; of everything Draco could have suggested, this was the last. He'd never quite thought Draco to be the type to take personal risk in anything other than a duel.

"Uh, good, thanks Draco," Elise said, her voice raised an octave as she spoke Draco's name.

"Don't even mention it," Draco muttered as he took the knife from Harry – his eyes downcast, not quite meeting Elise's. He casually slid the knife up the cuff of his shirt, letting it rest in his sleeve. It was admittedly hard to see, the white cloth hiding its shape.

"Well, I'll see you all back in our room, then. I'd best get out of here quickly." Draco didn't hesitate any longer – standing up and smoothly leaving the room.

Harry and Elise were still as Draco began to near the doorway, moving as much as a statue; their breath caught in their throat, and their fists clenched. Draco stepped through the doorway, and a drop of sweat fell from Harry's brow.

They exhaled in relief as Draco stepped around the corner without a hitch, and Harry turned to look at Elise, picking up his knife and peering at it. "You know, this thing isn't very sharp."

Elise frowned and looked at her own with a degree of concern. "You're right – this could barely break the skin."

"Doesn't matter too much, right? We could just transfigure the edge to be sharper."

Elise paused before she dropped the knife onto the table with a clang as her eyes slowly raised to meet Harry's. "Transfigure the edge," she said, her voice dead-pan, her face expressionless.

"What? We can do that, right?" Harry said, a degree of confusion in his voice – he didn't quite understand why Elise was acting in such an odd manner.

"Corvus, transfigure an object to be sharper," she spoke slowly, enunciating each word.

Harry's face slowly fell as he spoke in a low voice "We could have just transfigured something into a knife."

She nodded and they both looked directly into one another's eyes. Elise's face was stony, but her blue eyes looked as if a storm was brewing inside them like a hurricane over an ocean. Harry was struck by the urge to reach out and calm her down – an urge that he suppressed, electing to stand instead.

"Come on, let's go tell Draco how stupid we all are."

* * *

Harry opened the door; only for Draco to look up at them with a forlorn expression upon his features, "We could have just tr-"

"Transfigured something into a knife, yeah, we know." Harry said as they moved to sit down on either side of Draco, and look at the knife, "either way, at least we have the knife now," he said, in a poor attempt to remain positive.

"We are so _stupid_." Elise smacked her head violently in frustration, her pearl-like teeth bared like a cornered wolf.

"Come on, Elise, it was my idea. Don't blame yourself," Draco offered, his voice low and whilst he moved his hand to rest upon her shoulder.

"You're right, and that just makes it even more stupid that we just stuck to the first idea you got."

Harry gave a snicker and rolled his eyes, "I think at this rate Elise will spend more time raging over how stupid we all are than it took to solve the first problem."

She opened her mouth to argue before she clamped it shut and exhaled through her nose slowly, repeating the action until she reopened her eyes and nodded. "I think I'm alright, it's just so – never mind."

Draco gave a quiet snigger of laughter before he tested the edge of the blade with his finger, "I transfigured the edge whilst I waited. It seems sharp enough – to myself, at least."

Harry agreed with Draco's consensus, for when he pulled the knife from his finger, it left a sharp slice that brimmed with blood, "You might even have _overdone_ it, Draco. I hope we don't cut off our hands doing this."

Draco gave a roll of his eyes at Harry's cutting remark before he elected to offer the blade handle first to Elise. "You did most of the work; it is only fitting that you are the one who goes first."

She accepted the knife and looked up to face them both, the faintest glimmer of doubt present within her vibrant blue eyes. Harry knew what she was going to say even before she spoke. "Are we really sure, like, really sure we want to go through with this?"

Harry found her doubt silly what with all of the work that they had put into this. He thought that at this point, she'd be certain of her decision – especially considering that she had been the one to spend days and nights figuring out how to remove the enchantment.

"We're certain, right, Corvus?"

Harry gave a nod of agreement. Elise sighed, casting her eyes downwards before nodding.

"You know, I can't believe I'm scarring my hand for this. My mum is going to murder me when she finds out why I willingly scarred myself."

Harry gave a snicker as he heard Elise's wistful comment. It wasn't like it'd make her look worse – in fact, he thought she looked just fine as she was.

"Elise, trust me. It'd be hard to make you look bad," Draco reassured.

Elise returned a smile before she slowly planted the knife's edge against her palm, "So, let's do this then."

"You cut both your palms, take one of my hands after I cut it, then one of Corvus' when he's done it too."

"What should we say?" asked Harry.

"Um, could just say that we'll always be by each other's side?" Elise said, her voice uncertain and awkward.

"Well, I suppose it's not like there's anything less embarrassing to say."

Harry agreed with Draco's comment – it's not like there's anything you could say which wouldn't be incredibly cringe worthy.

"Right, well, let's do this then," Elise muttered. She ran the blade across her hand and squeezed her eyelids shut, her face twisted in pain before switching the blade to her other hand and slicing it open in a similar fashion. Blood started to coat the handle of the knife – a thin red membrane across its keen edge.

Draco gingerly took the knife from her, quickly going to create a thin slit in his palm with a grimace. Harry could tell he hadn't ever been exposed to something like this by his silver spoon lifestyle. It only took him a moment to cut his other hand and press it against Elise's which was smeared in blood already.

"Corvus."

Harry nodded and took the knife from Draco, slicing it horizontally across his palm. There was a searing flash of pain and a sharp stinging afterwards – his hand rapidly turning slick with the crimson blood trickling across his hand. He squeezed his brows together as he slipped the knife into his other, maimed, hand – the feeling of their blood disgusting him, yet he knew it was a small matter relative to the blood oath.

He cut his other hand and gritted his teeth, resisting the urge to scream and dropped the knife onto the floor, something that would usually create some kind of reaction but everyone was too distracted now for that.

Draco took his hand, shuffling further onto the bed, and Elise took his other – their hands clutching and rubbing against each other, flares of pain being sent through his hand with each movement until they settled, the pain subsiding until it was but a throbbing sensation.

There was a long, quiet moment where none of them spoke, electing instead to take comfort in one another's presence as the blood flowed through them as a single entity. It was only when Elise spoke that they woke from their tranquil, sleep-like state.

"I'll always be with you, Corvus, Draco." Her voice was soft, like she was trapped inside a dream.

"And I with you and Corvus," Draco said next.

"I'll always stay by your sides, Draco, Elise," Harry finished, pangs of guilt shooting through his core like knives stabbing into him, a dull, burning rage toiling inside him. He _wasn't_ Corvus, he was _Harry_. It felt wrong, like the oath was meaningless when they called him Corvus. But he knew that he couldn't speak out, correct them – not only would it go against what his dad had told him he should do, but he didn't know how they would react. Would they accept that it was necessary, or feel that he had betrayed them?

He let the doubt wash over him as the throbbing slowly subsided until it was but a dull, numb ache in his hand.

"Should we move our hands now?" Harry asked – he didn't want to pull them away and end up having to scour for numerous bandages if the wound had not sealed properly.

"I think it's alright to," Elise muttered, going to gingerly pull her hand away from Harry's – the blood left over was still sticky, but the wound had sealed shut somehow. It was as if more time had passed than he had realized – and a glance at the clock near the door confirmed that theory.

"You know, with all the effort put into this I honestly expected it to be more dramatic," Harry said with a roll of his eyes. He rubbed his glasses with the cuff of his shirt still covered in droplets of dry blood.

"What, did you expect thunder and lightning?" Draco's voice was teasing, a glimmer in his eyes as a smirk played at his lips.

"Well, something with a tad more magic involved," Harry confessed. It was silly; after all they were wizards yet they weren't really doing much actual magic.

"Would you rather we make an unbreakable vow?" asked Elise sharply – she sounded to be both amused and concerned at the same time, something Harry recognized to be a skill she had mastered.

"No, just – it was stupid, never mind." Harry waved a hand before he ran it through the thick mess of his hair. Elise suppressed her laughter behind a hand as Draco just gave a dramatic sigh. They were all smiling, despite the dull ache in their hands.

Time passed, and it wasn't long until they realized they had missed the rest of their lessons for the day. As much as Harry knew he should be worried, he couldn't bring himself to care about the fact his teachers were going to have a very, very stern conversation with him sooner or later. It was as if all the concerns in the world felt paltry next to the enjoyment that his friends brought him.

"We'll have to stay in contact over the summer. It's a shame that Corvus' birthday is then – when we celebrated mine and Draco's it was fun."

"It's alright – I mean, we spend an entire year together anyway," Harry said in an attempt to appear nonplussed.

"I could meet up with you in Diagon Alley. We could get something to eat," Draco said, his eyes lighting up at the possibility. His smile was contagious – soon spreading to Harry's face. The idea of having a friend to spend time with on his birthday had been nothing but a dream for the past eleven years.

"Sure, that sounds… good."

Elise pouted playfully, before giving a frown of genuine guilt – her eyes ever so slightly downcast, "I wish I could be there too. Maybe next summer you can stay around mine."

"Yeah, that'd be good," Harry agreed, feeling very much as if he were afloat on the surface of a lake.

"You know, I have a good feeling about next year," Draco said.

**Lucius Malfoy**

**26****th**** June, 1992, Portsmouth**

Lucius stood beside both Sirius and Narcissa as they waited for their children to march off of the boat onto the pier. He found that the wait was not as terrible as he had imagined it to be; the sun was much more pleasant than it had been the last time, and it gave him time to attend to his thoughts. The last year had been a storm of political moves which was more than likely due to the sudden appearance of a new pawn. _Corvus Black_, who would be an enigma if Lucius hadn't spent so much time with him – and garnered so much information from his son.

He was convinced now that Black was, indeed, Potter. It was a logical conclusion – the boy disappears, another shows up who looks similar to James, glasses and all. He has the same birthday as the boy who lived, and is a prodigy – an attribute that was more than fitting for the one who defeated the Dark Lord.

The only question that remained was why Sirius Black wouldn't have killed him – and instead raised him as his own. It made no sense, the man was an incredibly devoted follower of the Dark Lord. Or so they said – Lucius himself had never seen him or knew of him amongst the Dark Lord's ranks. In fact, it had been Sirius who had arrested many of his followers. Black had been an extraordinarily dangerous wizard – a stronger duellist than either James or Remus; Sirius was feared amongst the Death Eaters, and not just for his skill.

Sirius Black had been as ruthless as he was reckless, taking measures that other aurors would find distasteful – indeed, if it were not for his recklessness he no doubt would have been considered as Mad-Eye's successor. It was queer, even now, that this man was stood next to Lucius, both of them waiting for their sons – not as enemies any longer, but as close associates.

But the question remained, why had Sirius not killed Potter? If there was even the slightest possibility, then there would be no doubt remaining in Malfoy's mind as to who Corvus Black truly was.

He watched both Draco and Corvus emerge from the ship carrying their trunks, and could not help but wonder what would become of them both. They were both prodigies, Lucius was especially proud to claim this of his son – it was through his own efforts that he had shaped his son into such a talent. After Potter had appeared to vanish with Black, he had realized that a new champion of the pure-blood cause would not simply appear – it would have to be moulded. He had to teach Draco through his youth what it meant to be pure blood – and how to be a great wizard.

It was a curious thing that his previous intended champion had reappeared under the name of an ancient family of high status within the pure-blood nobility. _Black_, he mused, he had always considered it odd how the Dark Lord had come to be called just that, and now his scion would be literally Black. _A Black Prince_, he figured. A snort of derision followed – what a ridiculous name, and very hard to market.

But now he had two heirs to the Dark Lord's legacy. Two prodigies. Two new pure bloods – or a pure blood and a half blood – to lead forward their cause.

"Father," Draco said curtly as they dumped their trunks – Corvus having elected instead to run into his father's arms in a rough hug that nearly knocked them both to the ground; Lucius though it improper. Personal affection was never something that Lucius thought unduly much about – of course, he would display it when appropriate. Sirius had never been one much for decorum, however, nor was he one that thought for the better of the many.

"Draco," he returned – he knew better than to say more like others would try. Pointless words that meant nothing, some may consider it cold but it was simply practical.

And then, suddenly, Lucius' left forearm flared as if magma ran through his veins and burned him from the inside out. He winced sharply and grabbed his left forearm, the burning remaining still for another few moments – moments long enough that everyone was staring at him, Sirius and Narcissa with wide eyes. They knew what had happened.

The Dark Lord had called for them once more.

Lucius' mind flashed through his memories quickly – he knew that the Dark Lord would expect him to appear in front of him – and he somehow now held a location within his mind, despite the fact he had never been there before. Yet, it was as if he was frozen to the spot. Instead of moving to disapparate, he simply pondered the possibilities that could be. If he returned to Voldemort's side, he would have a place amongst his elite followers, but be placed under his will once more.

And he looked at Corvus Black, into his piercing green eyes, so much like Lily Potter's. And then to his son's grey eyes – noble, like he had been ripped from a painting of aristocracy.

Two of the greatest talents to appear since the Dark Lord himself – and even possibly, that of Dumbledore. Two boys of noble heritage, and one that, if he was correct, had defeated the Dark Lord even as a babe.

What chance would the Dark Lord stand when this boy was given all the money, instruction and advice that he had received and more? And where would Malfoy stand – but to have direct influence with what would be the new champion of the pure bloods? Not just to play second fiddle to an insane woman and a boy who had been infatuated with a mud blood for his youth.

The logical choice was clear, and the moral choice only added weight to it, and so he simply smoothed down the sleeve of his left arm and nodded to Narcissa and Sirius.

"I think, Black, that once our boys are delivered home, we will need to meet and talk – could I recommend Godric's Hollow?"

* * *

**Author's Note:**

And that concludes what could be considered the first "book" or act of Rising Smoke! I hope you enjoyed it – and I'm sure you'll find that revelation at the end interesting. The next book will be continuing on my normal, irregular schedule.

I'd like to thank everyone for all the support thus far, it's meant a lot. I've developed a lot as a writer since the first few chapters of this – and I hope I'm not the only one seeing that! I'm enjoying writing this, and I'm only getting better.

Despite that, I've realized that my chapters do need some editing – and thus if anyone knows of any good betas, or would even be up for it themselves, feel free to send me a message. I'd very much appreciate the help.

The next book will be where things start to pick up pace. After all – the Dark Lord has returned.


	9. Chapter 9

**Sirius**

"Come on, hurry up!" he yelled back to the black haired man who trailed behind him without any appreciation of subtlety, indeed, rather the opposite of it – each noisy step he took sent water splashing all around him. Their trousers were already soaked from the continuous rain, and it felt like Sirius' boots were submerged under a pond.

"Where are we going, Padfoot?" hissed the young man, his mahogany wand drawn and clutched tightly in his right hand.

"Ahead, come on, it's not much further down Knockturn alley."

They advanced forwards in silence, wands drawn and shadows cast across their faces, the only light on this night coming from the dimly illuminated windows from above – the dark denizens dining in their homes. Sirius' own apartment wasn't far from here, and it was probably more dangerous than half the shops on this street thanks to his contraptions.

Sirius shook his head, focusing instead on the task at hand, a cool breeze upon his wet face – the rain wasn't relenting, and it left him in a foul mood despite the fact he knew it made for good cover as they moved down the street in near silence, the echoes of shouts and crashes not far ahead.

"Padfoot, down there," nodded the black haired man, his face cast in shadow. Sirius returned the gesture as he advanced forwards, stepping down the steps of the alley towards the navy door of the house.

He looked over the deep gouges in the wood, and wondered what had caused them for a moment – using his hand to pull away at the weak, rotting wood of the door slightly to grant him the faintest silver of a gap to see through. Inside was a cozy house – a man in a black robe and with a silver mask sat by the fire, wand out.

"This is the house," Sirius murmured under his breath to his compatriot. They nodded, and Sirius held up three fingers on his hand, then two, and finally one. As soon as the last finger met his palm they both slammed their shoulders into the door – wands pointing towards the Death Eater who stood up, wand drawn towards them.

"Drop your wand," commanded Sirius.

The Death Eater started to slash his wand towards them, but before he could even complete the spell the wand was flung from his grasp into the hand of Sirius' friend.

"A tad slow, aren't you, Dolohov?" spoke the shadowy figure behind Sirius, his tone all bravado. _Who is he_? Sirius was confused, the man seemed so familiar, like an extension of his own body – but he just couldn't quite place who he was.

"For a seeker, you're not very perceptive, little Potter," teased a feminine voice – a voice that was strangely sweet and charming despite the obvious malice. Sirius knew whom it belonged to – his dear cousin, Bellatrix. He turned and raised his wand towards her.

"Are you really stupid enough to try and take us both on? Or will we be able to take you to Azkaban without a fight?" Sirius didn't care much for the fact that stood in front of him was Voldemort's most fanatic, most dangerous follower. To him, she was just another part of his insane family who had made his life a misery. The desire to duel her, on even ground, to prove he was better than her, it almost overwhelmed him. Almost.

"Oh, I don't have to, Ickle Sirius. Soon the both of you blood traitors will be at His mercy."

"What are you talking about, you little bitch?" asked Sirius' friend but Sirius' eyes travelled instead to Dolohov whose finger was upon his left forearm, the dark tattoo writhing as unbridled rage and sadism flared in his dark eyes.

"James!" Sirius roared as he fired a crimson stunning spell towards Dolohov, one so powerful that it made Dolohov's face slam into a glass ornament on the wall, blood welling and streaming down his face from the deep cuts of the shattered glass. Yet, as soon as he had cast that spell a multitude of hexes and curses rained upon them from Bellatrix's position upon the stairs.

"I've got your back!" yelled James as Bellatrix's onslaught rebounded off his shield to leave burns and cracks in the grungy brick walls. Sirius didn't hesitate before he retaliated – as soon as he went to cast the redactor curse, James' shield fell before reforming just in time to block Bellatrix's bone breaking curse. Then, as one, they both stepped forward and jabbed their wands forwards – but only James cast a spell, the wood of the stairs trying to grow around her feet before being turned to cinder and ash. As soon as she went to riposte, Sirius finished his spell and she was flung into the air by her ankle, her dress falling over her head to cover the snarl that marred her features. James didn't waste time in attempting to disarm her with a bolt of white light – but his attempt was blocked as she hastily created a shield charm and set herself free with a quick slash of her wand. James sent off a multitude of stinging hexes and worse at her whilst Sirius started to move forwards, wand still raised.

"Is this all you've got? For such '_esteemed_' aurors you're not really worth all that much, are you?" she taunted, her brows high, eyes manic with rage. Sirius remained silent, his brows drawn in dangerous intent.

"_Crucio_!" he yelled, his wand directed at Bellatrix who dodged out of the way before she let out a wail of harsh, mocking laughter.

"Ickle Sirius is using the unforgivables! Let me give you a dem-"

She let out a shriek of pain as James' yellow hex hit her side which gave Sirius the time to dart forwards and deliver a powerful kick into her ribs. He gave her another kick afterwards for good measure – she tried to disguise the pain that had been inflicted unto her; A contortion flickered across her admittedly beautiful features, a blend of rage and frustration.

"You fight like a mud blood! You're a disgrace!" she howled before Sirius' stunning curse took away her ability to insult them further.

"James, are you alright?" asked Sirius as he moved down the stairs panting – receiving a nod from his friend.

"We'd best get out of here, Sirius," James muttered under his breath whilst he readjusted his glasses. But Sirius had the feeling that they were too late – that Bellatrix had done exactly what she needed to do, and delay them just long enough for her master to arrive.

"Sirius, disapparate quickly, we'll meet up later," James commanded.

"Of course not, if he's here, we'll fight him together."

"There's no time to argue – I'll be right behind you, I'll grab Bellatrix and then I'll be out. Just go."

Sirius gave his friend one last look before he disapparated from the house – but just as he did, he saw an unnatural shadow fall across the crashed door.

**7****th**** July, 1992, 12 Grimmauld Place**

Sirius' eyes flickered open in a haze of confused panic. He rolled over under the luxurious duvet, his hand reaching out for his ebony wand that rested upon the bedside table.

"Merlin's beard, this is getting ridiculous," Sirius muttered to himself as he threw the sweat soaked duvet off of himself, cracking his neck whilst he stretched quickly; his body ached from the wild thrashing of the night. He knew he had a problem – ever since Lucius had told him about Voldemort's return he had suffered from nightmares and memories. Sleep was now something he feared, for it was when the past haunted him the most.

This wasn't unusual – even before the news he would occasionally wake up in a panic, but never with this frequency. At least, not since Harry had learnt to talk. It worried him – he needed to be rested and capable of defending both himself and Harry if need be.

Yet, lately, he had been doubting his ability to do so – for when he stood up, he was reminded of the fact that he was no longer in his prime – his gut was starting to creep just over the hem of his trousers. He knew that he was letting himself go – but what could he do? He was trapped inside the damned house that was where he had grown up. Buying food necessitated staying inside the muggle world, visiting their butchers and markets. Sirius felt useless, and he was scared for Harry.

Voldemort didn't even seem to be the greatest threat to him – it was Lucius, he had grand plans, plans that he had detailed at great length to Sirius. How 'Draco and Corvus will be the revolutionaries our society needs, the leaders of our new world with us to guide them.'

They had also planned to get Harry a pet – something that Sirius wouldn't mind so much, if it hadn't been for two simple facts: One, it was Lucius Malfoy, and two, it was a snake. Though at least Harry would be able to talk to this pet – a trait that still disturbed Sirius. He was a half blood, and James had never been related to Slytherin, at least, not as far as Sirius knew. So why was he a parseltongue?

He sighed whilst he walked over to the drawers and pulled out some trousers and a plain white shirt. It was frustrating that he was so vulnerable, it made him feel emasculated. Often he had resisted the urge to just grab Harry and flee, maybe to start a new life in a country far-removed from Europe and the Order of the Phoenix.

Truthfully, ever since Lucius' revelation, he wondered about why the order hadn't even thought to give him a chance. As soon as he went after Peter, they all turned against him. The aurors chased him down – and had it not been for his status as an unregistered animagus they would have caught him. Hadn't Remus realized that they had swapped? Dumbledore, with all of his intellect and experience, how could they not figure it out? He had been _unhinged_ at the time, but they were his friends. James would have never – even to his end – mistrusted Sirius, no matter the circumstances.

He muttered and tried to push the thoughts from his mind as he pulled his door open and stepped out onto the landing, his trousers resting just slightly beneath his gut, and his short left open at the front. _Maybe this will be a reminder for me to get in shape_, he mused.

When Sirius strode into the kitchen, he was surprised to find Harry already up, engrossed within a book that was written in German – clearly academic by the lack of any illustrations on either cover or page, although Sirius did suppose that knowing the German's lack of humour, it could be anything.

"Already up, Harry?" he asked, leant against the door frame. Harry jumped out of his seat and to his feet, turned to face his god father.

"Yeah, you frightened me," he said, his feet moving slightly as he recognized Sirius to not be a threat and corrected his form. Sirius realized with a start, that he had been in the dueller's stance that Lucius and he had taught Harry last Christmas. _The kid's got good instincts_, he thought. Sirius was impressed – those kind of instincts usually took years to drill in, but Harry had already gained them just by the end of a year of duelling.

"Doesn't surprise me you'd be frightened – I would be after spending a year in that hell hole of a school." Sirius shrugged and Harry returned the gesture.

"It's not so bad, honestly, I enjoy it there," he muttered as he turned around and sat back down, picking up his pale wand. Sirius frowned, it probably wasn't a good thing if he enjoyed learning the Dark Arts. But he knew to keep back, trying to force a child away from a path he wanted to go down rarely led to anything good.

"Well, good, I guess then. How's this… Elise, was it?" Sirius asked as a smirk started to form upon his lips.

Harry's eyes narrowed slightly in suspicion as he answered curtly, "She's good, why?"

"Well, I was just wondering, you seem to spend a lot of time with her…" Sirius teased, his grin only growing as Harry groaned loudly.

"We're just friends, besides, I spend plenty of time with Draco too."

"Hey, if that's who you're going for, don't let me stop you."

"That's disgusting."

"Homophobia is not becoming of you, Harry." Sirius bit his tongue to prevent himself from laughing at Harry's shocked and repulsed expression.

"What? No, he's my friend, that's why."

"Me and Victoria were just friends for a whi-"

"No, don't, stop right there," Harry insisted as he shook his head and raised a hand. Sirius could restrain himself no more and let out a bark of laughter – he found that spending time and talking to Harry always made himself feel better. It distracted him, and reminded him that he had done well, that Harry still got the childhood he was nearly robbed of.

"Hey, Dad, do you think later you could help me with some duelling practice?" asked Harry with the air of confidence that James had once possessed. It made Sirius hesitate before he gave a shrug.

"Sure. I'll show you a few tricks."

Harry gave an appreciative nod, before he gave an almighty stretch and yawned, "So, uhm, what's for breakfast?"

Sirius frowned – that was something he had neglected to think about, "Full English?"

Harry beamed.

* * *

It was midday when they finally got around to the practice, and it became readily apparent to Sirius that Harry was at an incredible level of skill – it was easy to suspect as much from letters and the glances of his training he got at Christmas, but to see him in action was unreal. _Is this how people felt when they saw Dumbledore as a child_? He couldn't help but ponder the possibilities. Yet, despite Harry's prodigal skill, there was still room to improve.

"I don't like this idea," the young boy muttered, looking up at Sirius through his mess of dark hair.

"Tough, if you want to get better you have to start incorporating different styles. Now, wand out, and try to take me down again without using more than three spells."

Harry obeyed his commands, and Sirius was very much bemused to see that he was shouting his spells at him when he duelled – it was the hallmark of a much younger, much more inexperienced duellist. He batted away the fiery jet that had been shot towards him; Harry seemed to have something of an unhealthy predilection for fire. Sirius stood there, awaiting his next spell – Harry would always end up trying to chain his spells together, so that the wand movements flowed together, however, he just lacked the repertoire of knowledge in order to effectively do so.

"You won't get past me just trying to throw curses and distractions at me, Harry. You need to unbalance me."

Sirius watched as the boy's dark brows furrowed together, his green eyes squinted at him through his glasses. He looked so very much like James did when he would duel Snape or Rosier.

Water sprayed out at him next, which Sirius turned into steam before he projected a shield in front of himself to deflect the curse Harry sent at him – he was so predictable.

"It's not fair!" yelled Harry, his face turning red. Sirius couldn't tell if he was embarrassed or angry.

"That's exactly why we're doing this. You need to learn to fight unfairly. Come on, Harry," he urged.

Harry lowered himself down, his body faced Sirius horizontally. He was minimizing his target well, and his feet were steady underneath him, Sirius thought.

The first spell that Sirius deflected was quite simple – a full body bind. Sirius had used it on Snape once, he recalled, and hung him upside down from a suit of armour. The next spell was new to Sirius – it made his brows draw in concern as soon as heard the curse slip from Harry's mouth. It was dark magic, and it was used so casually by him.

"_Corrugo_!" Harry's withering curse was luckily knocked aside, but it left Sirius surprised – after all, he had seen Snape cast that very same spell in their second year.

What Sirius didn't see coming, was Harry's dart forwards and the shoulder he slammed into him. Sirius' wand was sent from his hand in surprise, and ended up in the corner of the large empty room, quite far away. Before he knew it, he was looking up at his god-son in surprise, who smiled cockily.

"Only took me two spells."

Sirius grinned, and silently gestured with his hand towards his wand – it flew into the grip of his right hand just in time for him to knock aside Harry's own wand hand and send a full body bind curse at the boy. Harry's expression of shock was captured perfectly as he toppled over onto his back. His eyes watched as Sirius stood up and dusted himself down, somehow they looked accusatory.

"Never leave an opponent unfinished," Sirius said loudly, undoing the body bind with a casual wave of his wand. "But that was a good idea, knocking me down." Sirius didn't add on the fact that when faced with adversity, he'd change up his style like James, and use brute force like himself. He seemed to fight like a hybrid of the two, something that the Hogwarts teacher's would have dreaded to deal with in their classes.

"Fat lot of good it did me," Harry muttered bleakly, his face downcast.

"You did better by changing style when you realized you were predictable. And using force is never a bad thing, Harry. If there is an obstacle in the way, knock it down and make sure it doesn't get a chance to cause you trouble again."

Harry nodded. Sirius knew that he'd need time to start developing his style further, but it was a good step. _Not like he needs it, he's already further ahead than even Snape was._ It was reason for concern, and maybe he'd have to sit down and talk to Harry about it soon. He had been tempted to at Christmas, but felt that it would be best to let him make his own choices.

"Right, Harry, let's abandon three spells – duel me. If you knock me down, you win."

He nodded, and they both took their identical positions opposite each other. Harry's face was one of intensity, whilst Sirius was more relaxed, he didn't have to worry so much against such a young opponent. It was why he was surprised when rather than a spell, jinx or any other spell was shot at him he was met with sawdust stinging his eyes, having been kicked up at him from the floorboards by Harry.

"Fuck!" yelled Sirius, projecting his shield just in time to avoid the barrage of jinxes that exploded in an array of vibrant colour, before retaliating ruthlessly, freezing the air in front of him and sending it flying into a startled Harry. There was a yelp of panic, and what sounded like a window being thrown against a wall. After a series of startled blinks, Sirius could make out the shape of Harry, still on his feet but soaking wet. The boy's knees were braced, and was already starting the motion for his next attack. Sirius grimaced and quickly sent a banishing charm towards Harry – it was brutal, but there was only one way for Harry to learn how to block these kind of spells.

Yet, it seemed that Harry had little need of learning. Instinctively, Harry had gone to bat away the charm, and his wand had indeed produced an effect, if not much of one – deflecting it just enough to keep Harry on his feet. Sirius raised a hand, and they both relaxed – Harry looked surprised, Sirius noted.

"I'm guessing that was a lucky accident, then?"

"Yeah, what happened?"

"A bit of accidental non-verbal magic it seems. You made a shield."

Harry blinked, before he gave a sullen frown, "But there wasn't anything in front of me – I just tried to bat it away, like Dimitri taught us."

"You didn't bat it away though – if you hadn't produced the shield charm, in fact, you'd have missed it. No, because your intention was to _defend_ yourself, which is most of what a charm is. Intent. You envisioned yourself batting away, deflecting the spell, so that is what it did. You, ah, lacked the wand movement however, so you could not project it." Sirius despised teaching Harry like this, it reminded him of the times he was stuck in McGonagall's class after lesson writing lines. It didn't feel like him – it felt almost like Lupin. Sirius guessed that was where he got it from, because Merlin knows he didn't learn this from James. "Basically, Harry, you performed two thirds of the spell."

"It can't be that hard then, surely?"

Sirius barked out a laugh, "You'd think not, but most adults can't perform one. Anyone can produce a shield charm by accident. Believe me, Harry, it's a lot harder to do it consistently."

"Well, if I managed to do two thirds of it, I can't be that far off, can I?"

"Try it, if you want. The wand movement's not particularly hard, but this is about as difficult as an incorporeal Patronus charm – and for similar reasons." Sirius felt exasperated – if Harry was going to start yelling out _Protego_ well into the night, he'd get even less sleep than he already is.

"Can we try it? At least once?" Harry begged, his wide eyes faced towards Sirius pleadingly – he rarely did this, but now he seemed to have gained a penchant for it. Sirius blamed Malfoy.

"Fine. Only because I know you'll annoy me until I give in."

Harry beamed, and went to face Sirius from his side of the room whilst Sirius sighed.

"The incantation is "_Protego_", and the wand movement is a circle in front of yourself. You have to perform it quickly, and steadily. If your wand wavers, it will fail."

Harry nodded, which signalled to Sirius that he was ready. Sirius breathed deep as he readied himself.

"_Stupefy_."

Sirius watched as Harry desperately tried to complete a circle with his wand – how it was oddly shaped and unsteady. How his face was squeezed tight as he tried to focus himself.

"_Protego_!" Harry called out in vain as the crimson spell flickered through the non-existent shield to collide into Harry's skull, causing him to stumble and pass out on the spot. The spell certainly seemed to be a touch weaker, but Sirius wasn't sure if that was his own failure, or Harry's success. He shrugged, and began to move Harry to somewhere more comfortable for when he awoke. He had never had a problem moving Harry – he was so light. _More of a seeker than Chaser_, Sirius thought. He wondered why he hadn't tried for seeker, he never had been very clear about how he was able to trial in the first place. It was a topic for another time, however.

**Harry**

**14****th**** July, 1992, 12 Grimmauld Place**

"_Protego_!" Harry yelled in frustration as he performed a quick, steady circle with his wand that only resulted in specks of dust being scattered across the empty spare room he was using. He didn't need any help to see the shield this time, for he had figured how he would know that he had succeeded. The shield spell didn't just deflect or dissipate magic, but it would also protect against more common attacks. Sirius had used the example of muggles – if a muggle were to fire a bullet into the shield, it would simply crumple against the shield. This lead Harry to the conclusion that the charm acts almost as if there was a physical barrier in front of him, made of pure force, that was pushing against anything sent towards him.

Yet, in his reading, he had discovered that larger shields could be created, to guard a considerable area from spells. This made him wonder – if the spell projected the force, how could the larger shield charm sustain itself without a wand projecting it?  
_That's probably why not many people can perform the spell_, Harry thought to himself.

What all of this meant, was that when a shield charm was successfully cast, the air where it was projected would be displaced. Harry from there realized that, when it was successfully cast, he should be able to feel the effect on his skin (although it'd be very easy to miss).

"You know, you might have cast it already and not realized," Sirius pointed out from the doorway, a bemused smirk upon his face.

"Shut up. I don't like getting hit by a spell every time I fail."

"You might not, I find it kind of fun though."

"Shut up." Harry ground his teeth against each other as he suppressed the urge to fire a stinging hex at his god father.

"You should take a break, Harry. You've been trying it for a week, and we're going to see the Malfoys in a couple of hours. You do want to go see them, right? Because if not, I'm fine with that. There's a quidditch match on an-"

"I want to go. It's fine." Harry inhaled deeply, before he relaxed the grip on his wand and slid it into his robe's pocket. Sirius' face fell and Harry grinned, he knew his dad hated going to the Malfoys, and was surprised he put up with it so well. He hadn't once duelled the Malfoy patriarch, despite a couple of near encounters.

"Get ready then. And that includes a shower, Merlin knows you need one," Sirius said. He wrinkled his nose before he darted around the corner – just in time to avoid the shoe that Harry threw at where he had been stood just a moment before.

"Git." Harry walked out the door and wandered down the hallway to his bedroom where he swiftly stripped out of his dirty robes into a fresh set of crimson ones that Sirius had given him as a birthday present a couple of years ago. It amused Harry to reflect on the fact that once, he had dreamed of wearing the crimson and gold Gryffindor quidditch robes. The irony of visiting the Malfoys in the attire that so closely reflected those very robes he had dreamt of was obvious even to him.

It took him a fair while to get ready – he did take a shower, cleaned his glasses and made certain there were no creases on his clothes before stepping out of his room, as ready as he would become.

"You ever hear of a comb, Harry?" Sirius said when he saw him – hypocritically, his godfather had not gone through any effort to prepare for meeting the Malfoy's except for having ran a comb through his hair.

"You know they have the same effect as trying to get the water out of a sinking boat."

"Eh. It was the same with James, but that never stopped him from using one."

"He only tended to use one when my mum was near though, you said."

"Well, yes. Or any girl who he thought looked halfway decent, in all honesty. It worked for him though, so maybe you should take the hint."

"Shut up." Sirius only grinned at him to further antagonize him – an effort that worked very well to make Harry more frustrated.

"Anyway, get ready Harry. Been a while since you've been called Corvus, so you'd best get used to it again." In truth, Harry found the name Corvus more familiar to him now than Harry. He had always felt pride at being able to carry the same last name as his godfather – after all, he had always felt more attachment to Sirius than to James or Lily Potter. He knew it upset Sirius to hear it – but honestly, why would his parents care? They'd have surely wanted this to happen if they named Sirius godfather. Harry gave a confused shrug, and gestured for Sirius to carry on.

"Come on then, dad, let's get going." Sirius nodded, and they swiftly exited out of the door. They didn't make a sound until they had reached the sidewalk.

"Why aren't we disapparating?" Harry hissed in surprise, he felt anxious now, for some reason. The muggles walking past him set him on edge, as if he were in a den of wolves. _Or a swarm of locusts_, Harry thought.

"Going to the shops. Sainsburys is just down the road, and I really fancy getting a muggle drink. I know it'll annoy Lucius and Cissy." Sirius had a smug smirk plastered across his face, as if he thought his plan ingenious. Harry rolled his eyes – it would be funny, he supposed, but at the same time it was juvenile. _That was probably why it sounds fun then_, he thought.

When they entered into the shop, Harry felt a rock sink inside his stomach. The place was huge, and swarming with muggles of all shapes, sizes and ages. _Why do I feel this way?_ Harry wondered, he couldn't figure out what made him so annoyed about it, and that only frustrated him more. He could guess that it was their habits, their ignorance; the fact that they were fascinated by the mundane. It made him feel enlightened, like a bishop amongst the masses.

Even on the way out, he felt perturbed by his reaction – guilty shame coursing through his veins like hot wax.

**14****th**** July, 1992, Malfoy Manor**

When they arrived, Harry recognized the wrought-iron gate to the manor straight away. When they walked forwards towards the gate, it dissolved into smoke to accept them without question. Harry found that the gravel path's familiar grinding and crunching underfoot comforted him; a lot of time had been spent out here with Draco as they played in the snow, snowballs launched with waves and flicks of their wand. He smiled, and that smile did not leave his lips until they had reached the doors which swung open to welcome them inside.

"I wonder why they wanted to see us," Harry pondered, not being bothered to look around the spectacularly ornate house. There was little left for him to see – Draco had taken him through near enough every nook and cranny the house had to offer.

"I know why, so if you really want to know…" his godfather left the statement hanging, and Harry shook his head. He knew that his godfather would love to ruin whatever Lucius Malfoy had planned. In all honesty, Harry had to actively repress the urge to give in to Sirius' wish and let anarchy reign, but he knew it wouldn't be worth the backlash later on.

"Come on. They'll probably be waiting for us in the drawing room." Harry had been taught the proper names for the rooms by Narcissa back at Christmas, but even now it felt odd to call it anything but the living room. It felt stiff, unnatural. Whilst he could emulate the Malfoy's manner of speech well, he thought it somewhat silly and disingenuous. And yet, when Draco greeted him when he first emerged into their drawing room, he found it made him feel warmer, safer.

"Corvus, I'm glad to see you again," Draco said with a broad grin upon his face.

"You can't believe how good it is to see someone who isn't nearly ready to use a walking stick," Harry replied, running forwards towards his friend and roughly hugged him for a brief moment before separating. The feelings of mistrust Harry had begun to nurture towards Draco before the summer forgotten in the moment.

"Good to see you, Corvus. Sirius." Lucius was as stoic as ever, resembling a statue with how little he moved since his guests had entered the room. It was Narcissa who stood and offered a hand to Sirius; Sirius was visibly reluctant to shake her hand, but allowed the gesture before frowning and moving to sit down upon the sofa opposite his cousins.

"I'm certain you're wondering why I asked for your presence – and unfortunately, it's not for pleasure." Draco looked just as confused as Harry felt at Lucius' words. What was he on about?

"Father, what do you mean?"

"Voldemort's back," Sirius answered in Lucius' stead; Narcissa gave a sigh of frustration and all three adults directed their attention towards Draco and Harry. He froze slightly – not out of fear, but shock.

"Oh? Are we going to be supporting him again?" asked Draco in a curious, confused tone.

"No, Draco. We are not. We no longer believe he holds the influence and power he once did," Narcissa explained in a more gentle tone than Sirius ever could manage; Harry began to shift from his shock, brows drawn together.

"How is he back?" asked Harry who noted the fact that Lucius's gaze was fixated upon him. It made him feel uncomfortable – as if he was an animal on display at a zoo.

"No idea," Sirius confessed with an anxious shuffle of his feet, his eyes downcast and not quite meeting the quizzical gaze of Harry. Lucius waved a hand, before he stood slowly, meticulous in even this simple movement.

"How The Dark Lord returned is irrelevant for the time being. What is relevant, is the fact that we will not be directly opposing or supporting him. No doubt, some of your peers shall be making that choice at Durmstrang this next year. What you sh-"

"Should say," Sirius interrupted, "is that we will not be supporting him. It may attract unwanted attention, but I'm sure you two can handle that." Lucius and Narcissa looked at Sirius in a mixture of surprise and anger.

"That will only anger those who agree with and follow his agenda, and that is the most dangerous group to oppose. You know as well as I do, Sirius, how they are more inclined to violence than-"

"Than the order was, and those who'd oppose him, Narcissa? And what of the expectations that creates, do you think that Voldemort won't learn that the heirs to our families are lying about their allegiance? Whilst he may not be able to get to them at Durmstrang, the children of his supporters will be."

"You are both very correct," Lucius said, all presence of his prior emotion now absent from his features, "That, is why I was going to suggest that they simply say we are undecided."

Sirius looked dumbfounded as he stared at Lucius, his brows drawn into a deep frown. He raised a hand, a single finger in the air as he started to pace forwards and back; Draco and Harry were left to watch without a single word able to be said by either of them. Harry felt very much as if he were numb – like he had spent too long out in the cold.

"You think, that not declaring a side will attract less attention? That will mean they target them both, to persuade them. And when they do not choose, then things will get rough."

"Nonsense, Sirius. Why would they be attacked for non-participation?"

"A good question – perhaps one you should ask yourself, after all – you had your share of such encounters under The Dark Lord's influence, did you not?" Silence fell over the room after Sirius spoke, like a blanket pulled over a child's head to hide from the monster in the closet.

"And was I the only one who resorted to violent measures? You, Potter and your marauding band of fools were infamous for your use of the same measures when it came to those who disagreed with you. The fact I heard about this even after having left Hogwarts speaks more about you than you realize. Yet, in the end you were wrong, were you not? After all, you did betray those friends for the Dark Lord with… yet another violent end." Sirius opened his mouth to retort before closing it with a grimace, clenching the fist that had before been a finger. He shook his head as he took his seat, looking as if he had just went two rounds in the ring. Lucius looked very much different – in fact, he looked regal. Harry understood what had just happened, and he felt like a deer caught in headlights. _Lucius knows_, he thought, _or at the very least, he suspects he has the truth and Sirius just gave him a confession_. He ought to feel dread, yet, Harry only felt a profound sense of relief.

* * *

It felt queer to be sat at the long table of the Malfoy family again, Draco on his left, and Sirius on the other side of the table. At the head of the table was Lucius who presided over the table as they attended to the lavish meal that the house elf, Dobby, had served them. The meal had gone without any kind of incident thus far, but the silence that hung around the table lent an air of tension to the meal; although Draco and Harry tried their best to mutter to one another and joke around.

"So, Corvus, have you had much chance yet to demonstrate your ability as a parseltongue?" Lucius pushed his plate away from him as he spoke before he began to dab at his mouth gingerly with a napkin.

"Not really. Not many snakes in Scandinavia, you see."

"Well, I'm certain you'd appreciate a chance to use your talent, yes?" Lucius' tone was probing as he spoke – he sounded very much like he wanted more than just a response out of Harry who shifted in his seat uncomfortably at the questioning.

"I guess? I never have much time to give it thought, I'm usually practicing or studying magic in my spare time. I suppose I'd like the chance to use it, but I can't think of any actual uses for it."

Lucius smiled although it never reached his cold, grey eyes however when he spoke his tone was warm, "Well, then I imagine that you'd enjoy a companion which you could enjoy using your rare talent with. Your father approved, and so… Dobby?" At the sound of the house elf's name, he appeared with a crack to place a brown box with small pinholes on the sides of the box. Harry could see the light through the holes on the box blocked every so often as something moved inside of the container, a quiet hiss escaping the box that Harry recognized to be a complaint. He gave a quiet chuckle which drew multiple questioning glances from around the table.

"What is it, Corvus?" Draco asked as he leant in, head tilted towards the box as if trying hard enough would allow him to understand the snake.

"He said, to '_let me out of the bloody box_', so I think it'd be best if we did that."

Sirius groaned and ran his hand over his face. He pinched the bridge of his nose as he squeezed his eyes shut, seeming unable to bear the reaction to Harry's casual demonstration of his abilities as a parseltongue. Harry didn't let that upset him though, instead watching with wide eyes as Lucius allowed the box to neatly unfold with a wave of his wand; the black snake emerged slowly after it surveyed the environment, slithering across the table towards Lucius who simply observed it passively.

"I'd appreciate it if you told the snake not to attack me, Corvus."

Harry blinked, before he realized and quickly started to hiss in a low voice in an attempt to draw the snake's attention.

"_Stop, he won't hurt you._" The snake slowed, and turned towards him and unveiled how big it was: nearly two feet long. It moved towards him, intent in its purpose as it hissed.

"_You understand this one, youngling?_"

"_Yes, what are you doing?_" Harry asked tentatively, overly aware of the fact that the snake was still moving across the table.

"_Getting a better look,_" the snake replied as it finally came to a stop less than a foot away from the edge of the table - and Harry -. A surge of relief passed through him briefly, his eyes locked on the black snake's head which was raised above the rest of his body, the reptilian eyes boring into him.

"Corvus?" Draco asked, his eyes fixated upon the snake just as the snakes were upon Harry; Draco's voice was ignored in lieu of the snake's hisses.

"_You are little more than a hatchling._"

"_This hatchling doesn't like to be called a hatchling._" Harry replied, a crimson tinge spreading through his cheeks, his brows furrowing in outraged indignation. The snake moved its head to the side of its body as it started to slither slowly towards Harry's hand that was placed upon the table.

"_But you are one. You interest this one._" The snake slid forward, and without waiting for permission moved onto Harry's hand. He stiffened despite the fact that he knew the snake meant him no harm – or at least, it had never said it did. As the snake's head neared his neck, his breathing slowed ever so slightly – aware now more than ever, that there was an incredibly dangerous animal perched upon his shoulders.

"Ha- Hah, Corvus, be careful," Sirius said as he drew both his, and the snake's attention – Harry's breath caught in his throat, and Lucius' eyes gleamed with interest as they both looked to Sirius whose fingers tightly gripped the edge of the ornate table.

"_That one is loud, and trying to keep a secret,_" the snake observed.

"_Is it that obvious?_" Harry wondered aloud, the snake relaxed upon his shoulders.

"_To this one._" The snake's answer was more ambiguous than Harry would have liked, but at least he had an answer. Luckily, however, neither Draco nor Narcissa seemed to have noticed or cared for Sirius' erring. Lucius, despite his moment of interest, returned his eyes to the black snake resting around Harry's shoulders.

"_You seem comfortable with this one._"

"_You speak this tongue, and you do not try to force your will upon me. That is good enough for me._" Harry frowned – it was somewhat ironic that a snake was so trusting, but he supposed he shouldn't complain, and soon enough he found a smile upon his face.

"I suppose that you're enjoying the company of your new friend, then?"

"Yeah, thanks – where did you find him, anyway? I've never seen a snake like him before."

"Acquainted with a lot of snakes, are we, Corvus? Nevermind – he's a rare breed, magical in origin. He's rather closely related to the _Piscivorus_ species, but has a neurotoxin for venom. He's not that old, at the minute, and shall age at a similar rate to us." Lucius seemed almost as interested in the snake as Harry, although his eyes never left Harry either – it felt queer, as if he were under a giant microscope. The snake around his shoulders shifted slightly as Harry did, and it struck Harry he had never gotten a name from the snake.

"_What's your name?_" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

"_I think it'd be best if you call me Nachash._"

* * *

I'm just going to clarify the fact that I'm going to start rewriting all of my older chapters for the story, but hopefully this won't interfere with the rest of the story. I feel that the low quality of the writing in the first few chapters is likely to deter people who otherwise may enjoy the story.

Other than that, I hope you enjoyed the start to the second year!


	10. Chapter 10

**Sirius**

Snivellus' face hovered above his simmering cauldron, illuminated by the luminescent purple surface that bubbled, popped and frothed, threatening to flow over the edges of the black cauldron. His black greasy hair glimmered in that same purple light. Sirius felt disgusted by the sight – the boy's lack of personal hygiene was not the main reason he felt that way either; after all, he did spend an inordinate amount of time around Peter and spent many nights running around the forest as a dog. Rather, it was the fact that Snape was as deeply engrossed in the dark arts as he was repulsed by them – and the greasy boy was completely unrepentant for it.

"Look at the greasy git," muttered James from besides him as he stirred his brewing potion, a rather sickly shade of yellow at the current time. "How did he even get this good at potions? He was no better than us at the start of the first year."

Sirius saw it, plain as day – Snape had a rather unhealthy fixation on Lily, a fixation that he was determined to stamp out; Lily should be with James, not some greasy Death Eater worshipper.

"Lily," was Sirius' simple answer to his friend; he knew that he wouldn't be able to get in a word edgeways after he said her name so he didn't bother.

"Pah! As if he has a chance with her! If he thinks that'll impress her, then he's very much mistaken. I mean, if I haven't impressed her yet how will he? I'm quidditch captain, and an animagi! Although, I guess she doesn't know that. Hey, do you think we should tell her?"

"Please don't. Be sensible, James," Remus chided.

"Oh, right, yeah, then we'd have to say about you. But still, he's a greasy git, thinking that potions will impress her. Probably trying to cook up a love potion, the pervert," muttered James. Sirius gave a bemused grin – he enjoyed listening to James' rants. He did agree, though. Lily deserved James, he was much better for her than Snivellus.

"Now, class, leave behind your fire protection potions at the end of the lesson, and I'll give you your marks tomorrow," Slughorn asked as he strode around the dungeon only to stop by Snape's now perfect crimson potion – and lean past to whisper a word into Lily's ear. Sirius did not miss the disappointment on Snape's face, or how his eyes watched Lily intently.

As they shuffled out of the class, the four boys hung back slightly, waiting for one individual in particular. It had been James' idea; Remus was uncomfortable, it appeared, but still went along with it. Peter on the other hand, just seemed very close to running away.

"Are you sure this is a good idea, James? We'll get into a lot of trouble," murmured Remus.

"Come off it, Moony, you know he's had it coming. Did you hear what he said to Mary the other day? 'Watch your back, mudblood.' He's a git," Sirius said with a roll of his eyes.

"W-well, he did only say that because Mary had been making fun of him," Peter chipped in before he became subdued when Sirius shot him a glare.

"Here he comes," whispered James ostentatiously.

"Lily, I found that starting to stir clockwise before adding the powder works better," Snape said, his voice unusually courteous.

"But the instructions say that – oh no. James, what are you doing?" Lily stopped in her tracks, holding an arm out in front of Snape who had already drawn his wand, an action James had no need for - his wand already outstretched in his hand.

"Please move, Lily, the git's been asking for it all week," James said, an almost pleading tone in his voice.

"Git? That's rich coming from you, Potter. Attacked any more Slytherins two years below you?" Snape sneered over Lily's shoulder, his pallid features drawn tight over his thin face.

"Severus, don't. And James, just back off, alright?"

"No, I'm sorry Lily, but this can't be-"

"Can't? You're so immature! Just leave him alone, he hasn't even looked at you today!"

"Fine! Have it your way, but don't come crying to me when he ends up stabbing you in the back!" James' hands were shaking as he turned to walk away, but his entire body jerked and went still as he heard Snape's voice behind him.

"Look at you, running away again, Potter."

Sirius cursed, and turned before James had, but was promptly disarmed by Lily whose wand was outstretched – her green eyes wide with shock. Yet, she was too slow to stop James.

"_Reducto_!" cried James as the dungeon wall behind Snape exploded, shrapnel and dust raining down on the ducking Snape and Lily. Sirius had grabbed his wand, and soon sent off a silent curse towards Snape, not a word uttered as yellow light shone through the dust homing in on Snape's calm features.

"_Protego_."

The white flash caused Sirius to wince in discomfort, his brows drawn as he entered a state of focus that was very quickly disrupted.

"_What do you lot think you are doing_?"

"Run!" shouted James, the Maraurders not hesitating as they turned and began to sprint away from the approaching form of Slughorn.

**Harry**

**1****st**** September, 1992, The Atlantic**

The warmth of the cabin was a stark contrast to the turbulent weather outside. Even with the array of charms placed upon the ship it still shook and groaned under the stress. It had gotten to the point where they all huddled together on the same stretch of couch, like penguins conserving heat.

"Do you think that they're gonna fix the charms on the ship when we get there?" Harry asked.

"Doubt it. This thing hasn't been fixed up in something like a hundred years," Elise said, arms wrapped around her knees which she had managed to pull up to her chest for a place to rest her head. She looked tired – as if she had struggled to find a night's sleep over the summer.

Harry looked to the ornate box in the corner, a deep frown set upon his face. "Do you think Nachash will be alright?"

"Of course he will. He's a snake, not a tea set," Draco said with an air of derision. "Besides, if you're worried, why not just ask him?"

Harry blinked – it was a valid point. However, he had started to find it perturbing to be holding two separate conversations simultaneously; his god father had been the one to highlight this quality after they had returned from the Malfoys. "I don't know. Would you two be comfortable with it?"

Elise shrugged, "Why would we? Just don't tell it to attack us."

"It's not an it, Elise. It's a he," Draco corrected.

"But you just called it an it too?" Elise said as her voice raised in pitch, a single eyebrow arched.

Harry gave a sigh, electing to focus upon his companion instead for the time being as their bickering faded into the background. "_Are you alright_?"

There was a moment of awkward hesitation as Harry waited for a reply, something that Harry had observed to be a rather frustrating trait with the snake. He would wait a long time before answering, Harry had wanted to ask why, but thought it could be rude.

"_I'm fine, hatchling. I'm not unused to a storm, or this infernal box._"

Harry grinned, although internally he pondered for a few moments as to how the snake had come to weather storms in the past; he made a mental note to ask him later.

"Corvus, is Draco a hypocrite or not?" Elise challenged, eyebrows drawn in a defiant look that almost dared Harry to disagree with her. He smirked as he imagined her expression if he did disagree – disbelief, frustration and shock all in one.

"Draco, as much as I love you, you are a bit of a hypocrite." Draco scowled deeply as Elise just arched an eyebrow as the start of a smirk began to creep across her face.

"You love Draco, huh?" It was Harry's turn to scowl.

"You know what I meant. We're brothers, practically." Harry said, gesturing to his 'brother'. Draco gave a nod of agreement, and simply raised his hand to show off the scar that was a result of their friendship. Elise shrugged and simply threw a lock of her hair over her shoulder in a display of nonchalance.

They settled in for the long haul, remaining quiet as the journey dragged on; they were content to simply be in each other's company again after such a long time apart. Harry found it felt like he had finally been given a jug of water after months stranded in the desert. It reinvigorated him – and he could have sworn he weighed less with the pressure of choice and expectation from the Malfoys surrounding him. He wasn't completely oblivious – he was acutely aware of the fact that his god father and Lucius Malfoy were playing a game of chess with him and Draco as the queen and king. He had expected to be angry once he figured it out but instead, Harry felt almost empty, hollow. Or, at least, he had until they had all reunited. Once again, a warmth spread through his core. Back where he belonged, in the place where he excelled and was able to be normal.

He smiled, and turned to look at Elise who had fallen asleep on his shoulder. Waking her up would be fun, he thought. It was queer, he thought, how even a year ago he was just meeting this girl who he now saw as almost an extension of himself – indeed, the same could be said for the boy on his right.

He gave a shrug, and Elise woke in a startled flutter, looking around very much like the birds outside of Harry's window back at 12 Grimmauld Place. The birds would build their nests on his windowsill, laying their eggs and going to sleep at night just as Harry would, and upon waking up would snap their heads around, eyes scanning the environment for danger – and when they saw Harry, they would relax, for they knew he was not going to hurt them. Harry had always felt too much empathy for the eggs.

"Sorry, was I out long?" Elise asked in a daze.

Harry shook his head, "Not for long."

"And it should not be much longer until we have to get off, so we'd best make certain we're dressed well," Draco chimed in over the top of his book: _Why we use Latin for spells_.

"Interesting book, Draco?" asked Harry, who was grabbed by the title – why did they use Latin for spells? He remembered vaguely how his father had mentioned they focused his emotion, but why not English?

"Yes. Apparently, when magic started we used ancient Greek and Chinese. I'll lend it to you once I'm done, if you want."

"Sure, thanks." Harry grinned at his friend before frowning as he realized that Elise was no longer next to him – and caught his eye on her bare back as she changed into a different set of clothes. He rolled his eyes and looked away. "You know, might want to give me some warning next time, Elise."

"Why? Judging by how much time you spend with your boyfriend there, you probably wouldn't be too bothered by what I have to offer anyway," Elise said, her face still hidden to Harry – but the sharp, quick reply was laced with droll wit.

Harry blew air out of his nose as he quickly tried to scramble together a retort, "And what of the time we spend with you? Besides, how sad would it be if the only two boys you're with are gay?" His retort fell flat, and Harry was more than aware on how borderline homophobic it was. As he felt a sharp pain flare through his ribs, Harry winced and groaned as Draco shook his head with a scowl.

"Why would that be a bad thing?" asked Elise in a probing, inquisitive manner.

"It isn't, just couldn't think of anything better."

"Not exactly a first from you then, is it, Corvus?" Draco chimed in, a smirk starting to tug at his lips. Harry opened his mouth to retort, before he closed it with a snap. He knew that if he messed it up it'd lead to even more teasing – it made more sense to just stay quiet. However, the action seemed to only prompt more loud sniggers from the pair of them.

"Come on you two, get changed," Elise scolded after a moment. Harry grumbled as he got up, wondering when Elise had become the boss of them.

* * *

"Stay in your rooms," came the familiar voice of their Magical Theory teacher, Dimitri. He didn't linger – instead he carried on down the impossibly long hallway of the magical ship.

"I guess they rotate the teacher who comes out to fetch us then," commented Draco idly as he pulled on a gray, silken shirt over his pale, bare chest. It surprised Harry how Draco was never able to bring anything that cost under five galleons with him. It wasn't like Harry wasn't well off himself, and he still had some muggle clothing from the local shop that cost the equivalent of a couple of sickles.

"Yeah, he didn't sound all that happy though, did he?" pondered Harry aloud as he cast his eyes towards the door whilst pulling on his black and gold surcoat over his white shirt.

"Would you, if you had to be out here?" asked Elise with a cocked brow.

"I certainly would not. These second years are right cretins. Apart from that Malfoy, he's alright," said Draco aloud smugly.

"Really? I heard everyone thinks he's a right tosser," retorted Harry with a grin.

"At least that tosser knows how to use a comb."

"That tosser spends more time with his comb than his wand – probably why he can barely cast a spell."

Elise gave a roll of her eyes before she started to speak, "Come on let's shut up."

Draco and Harry both rounded on her, speaking in unison: "And who made you the boss?"

"The fact that you were too distracted to noticed I'd drawn my wand does." Elise swiftly gave a flourish of her wand as she locked Harry into place with a single spell, "_Petrificus Totalus_." Draco had drawn his wand, but was too slow to dodge Elise's second spell that sent him crashing over, frozen just as Harry had been. Elise gave a smirk, and wandered over until she was knelt in between the two petrified bodies, their eyes tracking her. "I win."

Harry tried to plead with her, if only through the use of his eyes; his efforts were in vain. She stood up, sheathing her wand and sitting on the plush couch patiently as she waited.

It turned out that they didn't have to wait long; Dimitri poked his head through the doorway with an expression of bemused surprise at the sight of the two unconscious boys and the innocently humming Elise sat upon their sofa. Harry tried to wriggle, but the effort was in vain.

"I take it their incessant noise got to you, Miss Vulchanova?" asked the young teacher with a grin.

"Yup, to put it lightly."

"Well, I suggest we allow them to return to action, how did you beat them anyway?" Dimitri wore an expression that twisted his scars, turning even his light hearted curious expression into something that seemed darker that could scare those unfamiliar with the professor. But it had no such effect on any of them.

"Well, whilst they were busy arguing I had already taken out my wand." Elise looked to her professor with a grin, expecting approval, however, all she received was a roll of the eyes.

"Guess we need to teach them how to draw their wands quicker then, hm?" Dimitri finally gave a wave of his wand, silently undoing the invisible bindings upon their bodies. Harry sat up quickly, clenching his fingers into balled fists over and over.

"You know, you can be a right ass sometimes, Elise."

"Definitely. Seriously, that went too far. Do you have any idea how it feels being trapped for ten minutes like that?" Draco's voice was scathing to say the least – and Harry couldn't help but agree. It was a horrible experience, you were trapped inside your own body. No control, but full awareness – your body could try to move, but never could. It was like being stuck inside an invisible coffin that was exactly your size.

"Come on, boys, you probably deserved it. Anyway, you all need to get outside, we'll be heading into the institute soon." Dimitri left the room at that, heading towards the other rooms. They looked at each other, blank expressions upon their faces before shuffling outside. It surprised Harry that Dimitri thought they deserved it – the man seemed off as a whole, he thought to himself.

Outside the typical Nordic breeze met them and sent them into shivers as they tried to hug themselves in an attempt to keep warm: it made little difference. Harry noted that there were more students outside than there had been the last year; it looked as if the entire school was gathered.

"Alright! Listen up!" Dimitri's magically enhanced voice carried over the muttering and laughter of the school, carrying the authority that no other teacher seemed to possess.

"Where's Karkaroff?" asked one student that Harry recognized to be a fourth year – was it the headmaster that met the older students and led them inside?

"That's a bloody good question, frankly, and one I do not hold the answer for," answered Dimitri. The crowd went wild, muttering to one another – a sense of dread began to rise up through his core. Sirius had told him some time ago that Karkaroff was a death eater, and if Voldemort had returned – well, he knew how to get to Durmstrang, and how to lead him there. Yet, at the presence of a familiar hand, he felt himself calm down; Krum was next to him, hands on his two youngest chasers.

"Corvus, Draco, we were looking for you. Stick close to us, things may get ugly." Krum's voice reminded Harry of Dimitri. He gave a nod of affirmation, leaning in to repeat the message to Elise who blinked in surprise.

"He went to join You-Know-Who!" cried someone from the back, and the crowd went silent all at once, looking to Dimitri for an answer. Harry froze, his fingers pulling his wand out of his pocket, ready.

"As I said, I do not kn-" Dimitri was cut off by the crowd's shouting, but one voice rang out above the rest: a seventh year, tall, stocky and very well built. Harry recognized him from blue team.

"So he's a coward then, like the rest of those Death Eater cunts?"

"Watch your bloody mouth, Christoffer!" roared back another student Harry didn't recognize.

"Shut it!" yelled Dimitri, but it was too late – he had lost control.

"Oi! That's Malfoy, his father did in my uncle!" yelled a sixth year, the keeper for Blue Team. Draco looked startled – but it wasn't long before Krum had grabbed him and pulled him into the middle of red team.

Harry heard a crunch somewhere to his left – another second year had hit the ground, blood spurting from his nose. He looked to his right again, and noticed the Blue Team's keeper storming towards Malfoy before stopping as Brandon stepped in front of him.

"Yeah, I wouldn't recommend getting any closer," Brandon said to the keeper, staring him down only to receive a snarl in return.

"Or what are you gonna do?"

There was an explosion, and suddenly Dimitri's voice cracked like a whip against the crowd. "Stop, _now_! Any student who doesn't shut up and start following me will be whipped!" The threat worked, every student went silent and were now helping up fallen students. Harry felt Krum's hand on his shoulder still. "We'll walk you back safely, don't leave your rooms tonight. Eat breakfast with us, you too Elise."

"I'll make sure Elise gets back safely," Ash said, holding a hand over her heart, and sending another smirk at Harry, but he wasn't in the mood to blush – he knew that Durmstrang was no longer safe.

**2****nd**** September, 1992, Durmstrang Institute**

"Wait, it's that bad?" Elise asked Krum over the table; he nodded gravely, placing his hands down flat against the table.

"Yes. The British always forget that whilst You-Know-Who acted inside their country, his influence reached most of Europe. I am surprised you did not hear about this from your family?"

"Well, they are too self-involved to care, I bet."

Krum arched a brow, but did not question further. Miranda frowned as she stabbed at her bacon, "So, Bulgaria is having sightings of Death Eaters again, and Malfoy's dad felt his mark burn. He's really back then?"

"Yes. My father wouldn't be wrong," confirmed Draco. "Not about this, anyway."

Harry was surprised – he did not often hear Draco ever even hint at any flaws of his father; he wondered what caused the sudden loss of confidence; or if it was as sudden as he thought. He took a stab at his sausage, frowning as he dragged it through the beans.

Krum's brow was furrowed deep as he spoke, "The school's divided. If it's anything like what my dad says about Grindelwald after he got expelled, it could get violent."

"That's what Draco's dad said. Why, though?" asked Harry.

"You-Know-Who's supporters have always been violent. Most supporters of the Dark Arts are – they tend to be the ones who care the most about blood status, other nonsense like that. And when you care a lot about an opinion, you defend that opinion."

"Well, it kind of does matter where you come from, Krum," Ash said, pouting slightly, "I mean, after all, it's about culture. Muggles don't understand it or try to."

"Come on, Ash, you don't believe that nonsense. You can't generalize an entire people." Brandon sighed.

"She's not entirely wrong though," Draco said with a roll of his eyes. "I mean, come on – most end up sticking to their old lives. Some even stay living with muggles, apparently."

Brandon gave a shrug, "That's their choice though, right?"

"An inconsiderate one."

"It's not our place to say-"Brandon started before being cut off.

"Then whose is it? Because I can't think of anyone better than us. We created our world," Ash argued, flipping a strand of blonde hair behind her ears. Krum looked on passively, a blank expression upon his face; Harry was curious, he wanted to know what was going on in his head. Who did he agree with?

"Oh come on guys," Alex finally chimed in, looking up from his plate, "Are we really gonna argue about this at breakfast?"

"When else, Alex? Besides, it's not like you care. You're too busy sleeping and jerking off to give a shit about politics," Brandon said with a grin upon his face – Alex simply made a face and raised his middle finger in retort.

"I don't like the idea of us just sitting by and letting muggleborns change our society to suit their needs. They came into _our_ society, not the other way around. They adopt _our_ ways." Draco's voice was impassioned despite his calm features. Harry knew he had always felt strongly about these issues – and it surprised him how Elise, the other extreme of the issue, was neglecting to speak her mind thus far. She just sat there, quietly watching.

And yet, it was not Harry that asked for her voice, but Krum. "Elise, what do you think?"

She hesitated as she looked at the faces that had now turned to her. She took a deep breath before speaking. "I think, that, well, we need to compromise. It's not right for either side to dominate our society. They're not any more inferior than we are; and besides, a lot of our culture is shared. Shakespeare, King Arthur, Beowulf."

Krum nodded at her words, seemingly in agreement. Draco and Ash shook their heads whilst Brandon flashed her a grin. Miranda didn't seem to care much and just gave a shrug. Harry didn't know how he should react, after all – she wasn't exactly wrong, but it ignored some of the more pressing issues. He gave a sigh and looked to Krum who had begun to speak.

"Either way, I will not allow anyone in this team to fight for a side. You pick a side, you're off this team. Dimitri's agreed – and on top of that, you protect the rest of the team, no matter who it is, or what side they agree with. Your pride isn't as important as each other, understood?"

They all nodded and murmured a kind of agreement but for Elise who simply looked at Draco with a degree of concern in her features. Harry thought it peculiar, but didn't bother to question it.

"Attention!" cried out a voice from the stairs – a very recognizable, and flamboyant one. It was their dark arts teacher, Alexi Nokarl. "I have some horrible news! And some great news, so it evens itself out in the end." The room remained silent as he spoke, eager to learn what exactly the news was.

"As some of you may have figured out after last night, Karkaroff has fled Durmstrang. We have no idea where he is – and so, he was removed from his position as Headmaster. We are doing our best to relocate him and remove his memories of Durmstrang's defences. However, his vacancy meant that we had to appoint a new headmaster, and thus I will be the new headmaster of the school from now on." There was a brief moment of shock before polite applause broke out across the room, receding after a few moments. "Thank you. Anyway, taking over the Dark Arts will be Dimitri, who is no longer teaching Magical Theory – instead, that responsibility belongs to a Rosaline Harrow. I am sure you will welcome them into their new positions."

Applause broke out around the hall, and then the whispering began – some of it at their own table.

"Dimitri's teaching the Dark Arts now? Does this mean he's in charge of the duelling club?" Harry asked, eyes wide with shock.

"I guess so," answered Krum with a pensive expression, "but what I think is more important is the fact that Alexi is now running the school. We might start to see some changes – he's always been a fan of fighting out your problems."

They didn't need to be told what that meant – Durmstrang was even more dangerous than they had previously thought. A chill went down Harry's spine; he remembered the last time he had been victim to an attack at the school all too well. He had felt powerless, emasculated and fearful for the next few weeks. And James, the boy who had attacked him, was still at large.

"Draco, you remember James?" muttered Harry, drawing the attention of a few of the members. "If he attacked me before… I think, we need to send a message. Win one fight, and the rest to come all at once, you know?"

Draco nodded – but Krum didn't seem exactly supportive, "You want to attack him? How does that make you any better? It'll also mark you out as being on the opposing side to whatever James will choose."

"He has a point, Viktor," Miranda said, "if he was attacked before; what's to stop him being attacked by them again?"

"Us. We would," answered Brandon.

"Corvus can't hide behind us forever, nor can Draco. They need to set a precedent. We all do," replied Ash. Krum sighed in response.

"Fine, whatever. But do not do it from the shadows. I won't have my team be called cowards, understand?" dictated Krum.

"Of course. Humiliating someone is far more fun anyway," Draco pointed out with a grin – a grin that Harry happily returned. He felt safe with Draco by his side; he knew nothing could go wrong.

And yet, Elise's face was one of concern, and horror.

**19****th**** September, 1992, Durmstrang Institute**

Harry, Draco and Elise were all seated near the stairs out of the dining hall, but none of them were eating. Instead, they were all watching the form of James Kreak. His tall, strong silhouette was imposing – and to say that he felt no fear would be a lie. Harry gulped before he stood up, striding towards the stairs that James was approaching with two of his cronies on either side.

James stopped, looking at Harry who stood directly in front of him, looking up at the older boy through his glasses. "What do you think you're doing, Black? Get out of the way."

"Not happening. Take out your wand, I don't want to beat you unarmed." Harry was defiant, his pale aspen wand clutched tight in his grip, held like the handle of a sword. Draco had soon stepped to the side of him, wand drawn as well.

"Come off it, really? You want to get publically beaten now? Tell your boyfriend to fuck off, and we can do this properly."

The entire hall was silent, paying rapt attention to the events that unfolded in front of them – everyone stood sat down which left only Harry and James opposite of each other. They bowed.

"Scared, Black?"

"You wish."

They turned, took two steps back – and then turned with a slash of their wands.

"_Stupefy_!" they cried, simultaneously dodging to their rights to avoid the red flash of light.

"_Ruptura_!" yelled James, to aghast mutters throughout the hall. Harry managed to deflect it towards the ceiling, but gave a grimace; it was clear that James wasn't in a mood to take prisoners. He stepped forwards as he whipped his wand through the air.

"_Expelliarmus_!" Harry incanted, the white light missing James by an inch. Harry's grip tightened;

"Not on top of your game, are you, Black? _Reducto_!" The spell caused the railing it hit to explode into dust and fragments, but Harry was too focused on advancing towards James to care.

"_Depulso_!" His wand cut through the air towards the older boy, and this time – it caught him, but to little effect. James went stumbling back, sending off a flurry of stunning spells as quickly as he could incant them. They all missed, fizzling into the air. Harry was only a few feet from James now – so close. "Not so cocky now, are you?" Harry jeered.

"_Glacius_!" The floor beneath Harry began to frost, rapidly turning into what seemed like a puddle of ice. His footing slipped, his form starting to fall apart as he could no longer keep himself positioned to the side; and James was aware of this, sending a banishing spell into Harry who went flying back, skidding along the ice with a splutter. "_Incarcerous_!"

Ropes came flying out at Harry, almost faster than he could react – almost. "_Incendio_!" Harry yelled with such anger and desperation that they were turned into ash before they even reached him – the flames causing the ice to melt away into a shallow puddle of water. Harry got himself up just in time to deflect a bat-bogey hex away which narrowly avoided a first year.

"_Densaugeo_!" James' hex seemed almost tame, but Harry knew more than well enough to allow it to hit him – he ducked under it, and ran forwards as fast as he could towards James who launched off a multitude of disarming and stunning spells in the few seconds he had, but none hit Harry; as he got close, he could see the brief confusion in James' eyes before Harry's fist slammed into the older boy, knocking him to the floor.

"_Stupefy_!" Harry yelled, his right hand aimed at the spot where James had been but a moment ago. James' stinging hex hit him as soon as he heard the words, and Harry fell to a knee, levelling his wand towards the boy who was trying to roll away and get to his feet. "_Occulistio_!"

James let out a scream as his eyes turned red, blinded and, Harry presumed from the scream, in some deal of pain.

"My eyes! What did you do to my eyes- oof!" Harry interrupted James with a savage kick to his ribs, sending the boy sprawling as he whined in pain.

"I think that's enough, Corvus," advised Hans, the charms teacher. Harry disagreed, and sent another kick into James' side eliciting another loud yell and starting a coughing fit. Hans had soon grabbed Harry and pulled him away, shaking his head. "I said enough. Did you not hear?"

"I heard. I disagreed," muttered Harry in response. Hans swatted him around the head roughly as soon as they were out of sight.

"Have you taken leave of your senses?!"

"He started it, a year ago!"

"And it was dealt with. What you have just done is delivered the first blow. Do you understand that, boy?" Hans said, his form leant over Harry who was reduced to looking up at his teacher, blinking as he slowly came to the realization.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, that since James was very, very publically against You-Know-Who, you will have set an example of attacking those who agree with him!" There was silence, and Harry just frowned.

"W-wait, I did this so nobody would try to attack me in future."

"Well it won't bloody work! Now his friends will want revenge. An eye for an eye and the entire world goes blind, haven't you ever heard of that before?"

"I-, no. What should I do?"

"Grab your friends and head to your room. In the morning, you should be fine." Harry turned to leave, obeying before the scarred hand of Dimitri was rested upon his shoulder.

"You should be proud of how you fought. Most people are afraid to get dirty; had you only used magic, he'd have beaten you. You won on your terms. Well done."

Harry turned to leave, and behind him he could hear Hans berating his younger peer: "What do you think you're doing, encouraging him?"

He never heard Dimitri's justification, but he expected he had a good one; Dimitri always had a reason to everything he did. And, Harry supposed, so did he. But sometimes he didn't think ahead – was he responsible for the start of an internal conflict in the most hidden place in the wizarding world? He realized that the only reason Hans didn't punish him, was because Harry had unwittingly already punished himself. And as he whispered what had happened into Elise and Draco's ears, they realized too.

* * *

"We fucked up, didn't we?" Draco muttered; Harry was grateful that he said '_we_', when in reality it was entirely his own mistake. It was the small things Draco did that made Harry appreciate his friendship.

"You know, we might be able to get protection from the ones who support You-Know-Who. It's not something I agree with, but may-"

"It wouldn't work, Elise. We can't take sides, remember? I've set a precedent. Merlin, I'm so stupid." Harry slapped his head, squeezing his eyes together tightly as if it would mean that he would never have to see the consequences of what he had done.

"Well, at least we have the rest of the team," Draco said.

"Yeah. I think someone will pop round later and see how we're doing."

"'_Pop round_'? Honestly, Corvus. You're _too_ British," Elise criticized with a smirk. Harry stuck his tongue out at her. Harry let out a snort of laughter.

"And you're too Swedish." Draco's retort was simple, and harmless. It was exactly what they needed right now.

"Too Swedish? You mean the home of tall beautiful women? Thank you, Draco," Elise did a mock curtsy from where she was standing, to which Draco replied by tipping an imaginary hat.

"Also the home of Vikings. I think you're more of a Viking – when do you think your beard will start growing, eh?" Harry gave a grin as it was Elise's turn to stick her tongue out at him.

"In all seriousness though, what should we do?" Draco asked, smile fading from his face as he spoke – his grey eyes were severe.

"Lay low, it's that or get put back into an even bigger spotlight," Harry sighed as he spoke and leant into his palm, elbow propped upon his leg. "When do you think Krum and the others will get here?"

"I don't know, do I look like a seer?" Elise answered with a wave of indignation. Harry couldn't resist the grin that returned to his face.

"Well, you are just as insane as one…" Harry was soon leapt upon, being pinned against the bed as Draco let out a noise of surprised mirth and dove away. As soon as Harry's arms were pinned down, the door opened and in walked Krum, Brandon and Miranda. They stopped as soon as they spotted Harry and Elise's wrestling.

"So young…" Brandon said, whistling innocently as Miranda swatted at their heads, Elise toppling away from Harry immediately as their cheeks flushed.

"You're a pervert, Brandon," Krum chided, who was doing his best to hide the grin that slowly crept across his face. Harry was doing his best to think of something that could get rid of the awkwardness that ensued – to put Brandon back in the hot seat. He was coming up blank.

"And proud. Seriously though, that looked weird. Especially since I couldn't see Draco."

"We were just playing around," Elise said sternly.

"That was literally the exact excuse I used when I first did it," replied Brandon and Krum coughed loudly as Miranda cracked up laughing. Even Harry couldn't help the smirk upon his face and soon Elise had joined in the laughter.

An hour later and they were all huddled around and upon the bed, talking. Most of the topics had been mundane – however entertaining – and it was only towards the end of the hour that they began to figure out a plan.

"Well, we know that Corvus and Draco can deal with anyone their year and below – maybe a year above."

"Definitely a year above," Draco muttered in response to Krum's statement.

"However," Krum said, ignoring Draco, "they're the ones least likely to get violent. They'll be too afraid of the older students. And when it comes to them, that's harder."

"Whatever side Aiken picks is going to be at an advantage," muttered Miranda quietly.

"Aiken? That's a British name," Harry pointed out.

"He's a British student who moved to the school on a permanent basis for refuge," Brandon explained.

"Refuge, what did he do?" Elise asked.

"Killed another kid in a duel. Didn't use an unforgivable or anything, he was just too savage. He's the best duellist in the school by some distance – luckily he'll be gone next year."

"Why didn't they refuse him shelter?" Harry asked, confused by Brandon's revelation.

Krum sighed, "His case was a particularly… controversial one. Most thought him too young to have meant the killing, and said he should be helped not punished, including Durmstrang. Britain wanted him arrested, and so he came here."

"_Did_ he mean it?" Harry's brows were drawn in concern.

"I don't know," rang the voices of the three older students in unison.

"What will we do if he comes after us?" asked Elise, hands wrapped around herself.

"Well, we'll be there to help. I don't think that's a concern however; he hasn't targeted children before." Krum's voice was assured – he truly believed what he said, or at least, he did until his last sentence Harry noted.

"Before." Draco's voice was quiet but carried the weight of their collective concerns.

"There's not much else we can do but hope, Draco," Miranda explained gently.

"Well, if he comes after me, or any of us, I'll make certain he won't get a second chance," Harry said, his voice full of confidence. As he spoke, Nachash slithered to his feet eliciting a yelp from Krum. Harry lifted his scaled companion to his shoulders.

"_You know, hatchling, that I am venomous?_"

"_I know. I counted on it._" Krum winced as Harry hissed back in response to his snake, and Harry took solace in the fact nobody understand what he was saying to his snake; he knew that they would condemn him for it. Yet, he felt it necessary. He'd watched enough of his god father to realize sometimes you needed to make a distasteful move.

**Dumbledore**

**20****th**** September, 1992, Hogwarts**

Dumbledore mulled over the letter he held in his hands – its contents were intriguing to say the very least. A new contact at Durmstrang, and one with a much greater amount of influence and freedom within the school than any he had before. He was tempted to call up Severus, but Remus was still eating his meal and he knew that Severus would only spoil the mood. And besides; Remus' unfiltered opinion had always been invaluable.

"You've been looking at that letter for the past few minutes, Albus. News of Voldemort?"

Dumbledore looked up, and smiled sadly. "No, Remus, nothing on Voldemort." He was glad that Remus called the Dark Lord by his name, it irked him that so many were afraid. Although, nowadays they had right to be even if Voldemort had not made his renewed presence known. "More to do with his followers – it's from a teacher at Durmstrang."

Remus arched an eyebrow as he rested his knife and fork together upon the empty plate. "Oh? I would have thought you'd be the last one someone at Durmstrang would contact."

"The school is not that bad, its reputation is far overblown in all honesty, my friend. This teacher – a Dimitri Korvak – He'd like some advice, and offers his service."

"Why?" Remus' question was blunt, and Dumbledore was not unable to detect the surprise in his tone.

"Well, he believes that we all need to help one another in times like this. A man after my own heart," Dumbledore said with a smile. Remus gave a slight chuckle.

"I suppose that's good, then. Yet, you haven't explained the situation too well." Dumbledore inclined his head – Remus was right.

"A fight broke out yesterday, between Corvus Black and a public muggle-supporter named James Kreak." As soon as Dumbledore had spoken, Remus' eyes were wide.

"Black? So, it could have been Harry? But why would he-… is he supporting Voldemort? No, that's absurd. I guess this confirms that it isn't Harry then, right?"

Dumbledore let his fingers tap against the desk idly as he thought, stroking his beard. "Perhaps. Perhaps not, remember, we do not have all the context."

"We know that Black is friends with Malfoy – it's not likely he'd be a muggle rights advocate."

"Stranger friendships have happened," Dumbledore said pointedly, look over his half-moon glasses towards Remus. "Either way, this Dimitri says that there will undoubtedly be an internal war at Durmstrang. Since I was around when Voldemort last rose to power, he wanted advice."

"Sensible man. How come we had not heard of him before now?"

Dumbledore avoided the question; there was no satisfactory answer to it. "I'll send him a letter back, and ask after Black."

The door opened, and Severus emerged along with McGonagall who greeted Remus by name before she headed over to Dumbledore. Severus was only a step behind. "Alastor is in St Mungo's, Albus. He was caught in the manor. They're going to put him on trial as soon as he has recovered," McGonagall wasted no time, and was very clearly flustered.

"Sit down, Minerva. Calm yourself; if he is recovering, then he will be safe for now. Was he injured?"

"Badly. Malfoy took the blame, but Alastor told Samuel the nurse to tell us 'I found Black,' could it be true, Albus?"

Dumbledore was shocked – and also very much worried. He trusted Moody enough to believe him. "Lucius Malfoy isn't a fool, they'll find no evidence of Black and he has taken responsibility, yes?" Dumbledore's demeanour was changed; no longer was it the calm, smiling face of a teacher and friend but the assertive confidence of a leader.

"He has. They found his claims matched with all evidence obtained including the last spells cast by his wand," Snape explained.

"You have to give him credit for being quick thinking," muttered Remus disgustedly.

"That you do, Remus. What of Narcissa? Do they have any visible wounds?"

"No, three very capable fighters against an aged Alastor, Albus? We should be glad he isn't dead," Minerva said; her voice as keen as a knife's edge.

Dumbledore found himself at a loss – no evidence, no leads bar the Malfoys themselves, and no new information; only confirmations of old speculation. It was tiring, in truth, he thought to himself. It was twelve years since the last war had ended and he had forgotten the rigors, the intrigue and dangers it presented; and it would only get worse.


	11. Chapter 11

**Sirius**

"Give it back, Regulus! Now!" Sirius' voice was full of adolescent rage as he yelled at his younger brother who clutched his wand. The brothers looked somewhat alike: both had long black hair, handsome aristocratic features and grey eyes. Anyone who looked upon them would know that they are pureblooded. And yet, despite their noble origins they now quarrelled over a wand.

"Not a chance," the younger brother said smugly who slowly backed away from Sirius towards the window at the end of his bedroom. Sirius' footsteps were heavy – even at the young age of thirteen he was becoming stocky with broad shoulders and large arms.

"Are you sure about that?" Sirius took another step forward, fingers outstretched and ready to pounce upon his smaller brother.

"Pretty sure!" Regulus darted forwards and ducked past his brother's outstretched hands. Sirius cursed as he stumbled forwards – nearly crashing through the window. Sirius turned as he blazed out of his room and down the stairs after the rapidly descending Regulus.

"You little shit!" Sirius tore down the stairs, skipping steps as he spun around the bannister at the bottom as he chased after his brother who still managed to evade him – always just a little bit faster than him, a little bit more agile around the corners. Only when they burst into the kitchen did they stopped – their mother was presiding over Kreacher, and she did not look pleased.

"What in Merlin's name do you two think you are doing?" she screeched whilst she clutched at the air in an overly melodramatic fashion.

"He took my wand!" Sirius roared as he pointed towards Regulus who looked around innocently, eyes wide.

"Regulus Black! Is this true?" their mother demanded, presiding over them with maternal authority, authority that left them paralyzed in place.

"No! Look, I don't have any wand but mine," Regulus said as he raised his empty hands, only one wand visible in his pocket. Sirius' eyes crinkled in frustration; did Regulus throw his wand away when he chased him? No, he would have heard it.

"Sirius. You're lying. Again." Sirius' mother flared her nostrils as she exhaled sharply, a dangerous glint in her eyes.

"I'm not! He has it! He's hiding it!" he protested, but his mother swooped over and leant down to pull the wand from his pocket in one smooth motion. Sirius blinked – how could Regulus have done it? He looked past his mother to his brother who just smirked, bathing in his victory.

"I've had it with you, Sirius. You and your _lies_, you've brought shame to our house."

"He put it on me! He's a thief; he stole it then put it in my pocket to get me in trouble!" Sirius' defiance only lasted until his mother's hand connected with the side of his face. His eyes watered and his fists shook.

"I hate you. I hate both of you!" he shouted as he pushed his mother violently before he turned and escaped down the hallway as his mother rained down curses upon him.

"Blood-traitor! Filth! You're nothing like your brother!"

Sirius slammed his door, ripping the doorknob from its wooden body.

**Harry**

**22****nd**** September, 1992, Durmstrang Institute**

They had just finished class for the day, and the three friends were walking down to the lake – Nachash wrapped around Harry's neck. They had just finished Dark Arts with Dimitri as their teacher, and it had left them exhausted.

"It was really impressive what you were able to do, Corvus," Elise complimented prompting Harry to shrug in response. He had been attempting to learn the blasting curse since he was ahead of the class and had gotten the spell to create small firecracker-like explosions now. Draco hadn't bothered – he had been more interested in learning the Confundus charm to his failure.

"Draco probably would have done better with it, he just decided to try a spell that most seventh years struggle with," Harry teased only to receive a non-committal shrug from Draco who pointed ahead:

"Brandon's there. How long is it until duelling club starts?"

"About an hour. We have plenty of time, don't worry," answered Harry.

"I'm not. Well, I'll say that I'm slightly worried for Elise – put your eyes back in your sockets woman," Draco's voice teased to a blush from Elise. Her attention wasn't unwarranted – Brandon had just emerged from the lake in only a pair of shorts.

"Hey guys!" he yelled with a wave.

Once they arrived, they found – to no one's surprise – that Miranda was sat near Brandon with a book in her hands. She gave a wave, but said nothing.

"How long have you two been here?" Elise asked.

"Couple of hours, we skipped last lesson," answered Miranda without lifting her eyes from the novel. Harry didn't really want to know why they felt they had to sneak away, and instead elected to pull out his wand and cast a spell to dry off Brandon.

"Thanks, Corvus." Harry shrugged, and aimed at the tree near Miranda as he assertively spoke the incantation.

"_Confringo_." A firecracker like explosion hit the tree, sending a piece of bark flying and scorching the area where Harry had aimed. Miranda groaned whilst she brushed down her hair to rid it of the dirt disturbed by the spell.

"Nice. Ever used that on someone, Corvus?" Brandon asked.

"I will have in an hour," Harry replied with a grin – a sound escaped Nachash that Harry interpreted as approval. Brandon gave a low chuckle, and Draco sighed.

"As long as you do not use it on me," Draco muttered – he seemed a little subdued for some reason.

"If I did, you'd probably do far worse back, right, Draco?" Harry prompted, but received yet another shrug. He made a note to ask Draco what was wrong after the duelling club.

"You want to go for a swim, Corvus?" Elise nodded towards Draco as subtly as she could. Harry frowned, but just nodded; he knew they needed to talk. It was only when they had waded in waist deep that they were far enough to speak without worry of being heard.

"What do you think's wrong with Draco?" Harry asked.

"I don't know. He was fine before he went off at lunch. Do you think we should ask?"

"After duelling club. I was planning to anyway, but it'd be better if we're both there." There was a nod of agreement from Elise.

"What's your rating at nowadays anyway, Corvus?"

Harry knew it off by heart, but hesitated to make it seem like he had to think: "Two thousand and seventy five." Elise whistled, visibly impressed.

"That's pretty high, by any year's standards."

"Yeah, but Draco's already at twenty-one hundred," Harry muttered before he could stop himself. There was an awkward pause for a minute as Harry berated himself – he knew that the resentment that surged through him whenever Draco did better was childish, but he couldn't help it. He hated that, no matter how much he snuck off to train without Draco, Draco kept pace.

"He trains a lot in private, you know."

"So do I."

"Why not just train together more?" Elise asked with genuine curiosity in her tone.

"Because we both want to be better than each other. He's better than me though, isn't he?" Harry muttered, self-deprecation in full effect.

"Right now, sure. But neither of you stays ahead for long. Maybe that's why he's upset – the stress of keeping up with you?"

Harry frowned. That didn't seem likely, he thought: after all, wouldn't he have felt that same stress? Instead he just felt a fire in his veins, a sting in his eyes that kept him alert. "I don't think so."

Elise sighed, stirring the water with a finger. "You two are so complicated. It's like you're both flying as fast as you can without knowing where you're going."

For some reason, that annoyed Harry, "What do you know about that? It's not like we have your easy home life."

Elise's eyes flashed to meet Harry's, her bright blue irises darkened, "Easy? Maybe if you and Draco stopped wallowing in self-pity and asked me about what it's like for me, you'd find out that's not true. We all have our problems, Corvus."

"Right. Sorry."

The awkward silence returned until they both silently emerged from the water to dry themselves off.

* * *

"Mulligan!" Harry shouted, trying to get the older boys attention, "Mulligan, over here!"

"Oh, I'm sorry – didn't realize you wanted me Corvus," the boy said as he headed over whilst he ran a hand through his dark hair.

"Its fine – I was wondering whether you'd be up for a duel?" Harry asked over the sound of duels and bickering. Mulligan looked around for a moment before nodding.

"Sure. I'm only what, two years ahead of you anyway. Your funeral," Mulligan said light heartedly as they took their places and bowed – it was a quick affair, the duel, with neither able to hear the others words.

It started with Harry as he sent off a series of firecracker like explosions upon Mulligan's body – explosions that burnt and stung the older boy. He sent off a series of stinging hexes and stunners towards Harry – a display that baffled Harry, a display he was unable to dodge completely; the stinging jinxes elicited yelps and shouts from him although none could be heard.

Harry retorted by sending off two stinging jinxes back at Mulligan, but his chain was cut short by a disarming spell he had to deflect. With a grimace, Harry stepped forward and sent a bout of flame towards Mulligan without moving his eyes from the boy's wand. The flames licked at his form, but did nothing to damage or even distract him. The Irish boy began another chain of spells, his wand making movements that fed into the next so perfectly that it allowed his spells to continue without halt. It was a set piece – useful, but impossible to improvise. Harry desperately deflected a spell as he pivoted away from the onslaught, his body already minimized in his boxer's stance. He bounced forwards off the balls of his feet as he cut through the air and lacerating Mulligan across his chest: blood splattered across the floor.

"Stop!" Mulligan shouted over the now quietening crowd; a hand clutched to his chest to suppress the bleeding. Harry obeyed, lowering his wand as he panted and walked over.

"Are you alright?"

"Does it look like I'm alright?" the boy retorted in a tone that dripped with sarcasm. Harry ducked his head – the remark made him both grin and wince simultaneously. Dimitri had rushed over and waved Harry away as he began to tend to the injured boy.

"Merlin's beard Corvus, was that necessary?" Brandon asked with a grin. Harry shrugged.

"I dunno, only thing that matters is that I won, isn't it?" He asked only to receive a retaliatory shrug in return. "Have you been approached for a duel here yet?"

Brandon shook his head, "I think it's fairly obvious I'm no duellist – they see you, they see me, and they know I'm the security."

"Kind of funny that my security can't duel."

"Hey, I can duel. But I'm a physical presence. We might act sophisticated – waving around our wands in a noble fight but everyone's afraid of getting punched in the teeth."

Harry grinned at that. He wasn't wrong – he was lucky that no one had keyed onto the method that Sirius that had taught him – although to call it a strategy was a compliment, in all honesty it was some form of unerring principle that Sirius stuck to if only due to the sheer brutal simplicity of it all. He was well aware – at least, since his limited studies of Magical History – that his godfather was one of the few to mix muggle and pureblood combat into one coherent, cohesive form. It was a deadly combination, indeed, but not necessarily one that had gained traction in Britain or the foreign wizarding world. Before, there had been wizards fighting with blades and wands – popularized by Godric Gryffindor. He supposed it made sense then that his father, a Gryffindor, would employ similar methods.

"I wonder where Draco is."

"Last I saw, he was doing some practice drills in between duels," Brandon answered. Harry scanned the hall for Draco afterwards, but it was - as it always was – cluttered with too many people to see any one person.

"Huh. Never mind, then."

"Why? What was it you wanted him for?"

"Nothing, really. Just wanted to head back to our room."

"Already? You've what, had a single duel and are already calling it quits?"

"I don't fancy duelling much tonight."

Brandon tutted, "You know, I thought with how much people talked about you and Draco, you'd be more devoted."

"We are devoted! How wo- wait, people talk about us?" Harry asked, halting himself mid angst.

"Yeah. You two are in your second year, challenging people two years ahead of you – and winning – and you're rated as highly as some fifth years. Don't make me laugh, devoted and stopping halfway through. Come on, that's like me giving up in the middle of a match."

"I mean – okay, sure. And that's not the same. I've already won a duel today. If I do another, I could lose – I'd lose progress."

"Lose progress? Come on, mate. Progress is more than just going up a few numbers."

Brandon was right, he supposed. However, he didn't really want to admit it, and if he argued back he'd just get frustrated in the end. Harry gave a sigh. "Sure," he went to walk away, before Brandon grabbed his shoulder.

"Come on, we need to wait for Draco so I can make sure you two get back safely."

"I'm not a child, I can walk back on my own."

"Corvus-"

"No, just let me go back."

"Not a chance. Now stop being an asshat and go duel someone or wait. I'm not going to get Krum on my case because you're being all angsty."

Harry fumed silently; he was half-tempted to turn his wand on Brandon: but it would not get him anywhere and so instead, he scanned the room for people he could duel and vent on.

"Marcus! Tuomas!" Harry cried out to the twins that had beaten him in a dark corridor a year ago. He had gotten revenge on James: why not the rest of them?

"What, Corvus?" answered Marcus tiredly.

"Duel me," Harry answered as he drew his wand.

"Which of us?" questioned Tuomas, Marcus' twin.

"Both of you, why not." The few that had heard Harry turned startled: these kind of duels were rare, so much so that the last to happen at the club was before even Krum had arrived. More turned to watch, and Brandon put a hand on Harry's shoulder to ask if he was sure.

Harry nodded, and the twins looked at one another before they nodded. "Fine, have it your way Corvus." Dimitri had stormed over, and Harry knew why – the professor thought Harry was going to get hurt, and it only served to make him angrier: why did everyone doubt him?

"Are you sure, Corvus?" Dimitri asked Harry. It was the second time somebody had asked him, and he snapped back his response.

"Of course. I wouldn't be doing it otherwise, would I?"

Dimitri gave a sigh – most of the hall had turned to watch at this point. Harry could see Elise and Draco stood together as they watched from afar.

"Draw your wands."

Harry had no need: his was already drawn. Rather, he fell into his stance, and made himself ready to duel. He would need to be quick, as much as if he were duelling Sirius. _I never beat Sirius fairly though_, Harry thought for a brief moment before he shook his head.

"Begin."

(*)

Harry fired off a stinging hex as he weaved to the side to avoid the twin jets of fire that erupted towards him. He started forwards, but they soon forced him to hop away from a stinging hex and deflect a more serious banishing hex into the crowd. He cared not for their fate as he quickly spun and jabbed his wand forwards.

"_Oculustio_!" The conjunctivitis curse hurtled forwards towards Marcus, but Tuomas shoved his twin away from its path – which opened up himself for the blasting curse that sent his body spinning through the air to land with a sickening crunch upon the floor. The crowd drew their breath.

Harry darted forwards and sent off a series of stinging hexes which all missed Marcus; but Marcus had never reacted to them, instead he cast his own spell upon Harry.

"_Wingardium Leviosa_!" Harry was flung through the air until he slammed against the magical shield Dimitri had conjured around them. He was dazed, and barely able to deflect the stinging hex that Marcus had sent at him. He went to stand, and limped forwards – his stance pained him as he took it up again with drawn brows.

"You don't stay down, do you?" Marcus asked in a mixed tone of respect and resentment.

"_Diffindo_! _Confringo_!" Harry screamed as he chained the spells together, both being deflected by Marcus who was much more steady on his feet than Harry who was edging closer towards him, not having noticed Tuomas beginning to get up.

"_Expelliarmus_!" Marcus riposted: his attempt deflected with a scowl from Harry who – now within range – swung his fist towards the broader, taller boy. His fist missed as Marcus stepped aside it before swinging a right hook into Harry's jaw to send him sprawling across the floor.

Tuomas sent off a powerful stinging hex as Marcus summoned a bout of flame to engulf Harry.

"_Protego_!" Harry yelled, a silver sphere surrounding him. He was too far gone to recognize the fact he had successfully conjured a shield, but after a moment of surprise, the twins started to rain down a cascade of spells upon the magical barrier, which was weakening as Harry's arm shook and his mind started to lose concentration.

"Stop the duel!" Harry heard a girl call, and that angered him more: he grit his teeth, starting to get to his feet as the shield wavered. He did not need help. He dove to the side – his leg flaring with pain – as the shield fell, two powerful stunning hexes landing where he had been a moment ago.

"_Stupefy_!" Harry called, before his spell was deflected – but he was back on his feet now, if barely so.

The twin's response was immediate – Harry's skin lacerated before he could react, a red line appearing across his face; his clothes ripped by the twins spell, blood seeping from his chest and arms to soak the rags of his clothes. The pain would have been overwhelming if there had been any smaller amount of adrenaline flowing through Harry's veins.

"_Incendio_!" Harry yelled, his wand lowered more than he would have liked, the wand movement sloppy – but his will still sent sporadic bouts of flames from random locations erupting around the twins who jumped away and patted themselves down.

With his wand, Harry advanced and elected to try something he had never done before: "_Ruptura_!"

In his attempt to imitate what he had seen others do, the spell backfired violently and sent him flying backwards through the air, his arm going limp as it broke. As Harry collided with the ground, he landed on his arm and let out a loud cry of pain. The world went dark.

* * *

He woke up in a hospital bed to see the faces of Elise and Draco. Krum stood at the foot of his bed looking more troubled than usual.

"Corvus!" Elise yelled, relieved. Draco just sighed in relief and seemed to relax for what seemed to be a long time.

"Hey," Harry muttered up dimly, still coming around. "Did I pass out?"

"Yes, you did. There was blood everywhere: you were such an idiot." Draco's words stung slightly, but Harry was too exhausted to refute them.

"Corvus, you performed a shield charm," Elise started, eyes wide with surprise. "Since when did you learn how to do that?"

Harry felt groggy – he could barely recollect the fact that he had, "I'd been trying to learn how over the summer. I can't do it all the time – just, sometimes."

"That is… really impressive," Draco admitted, his hands clasped upon the side of the bed.

"How bad do I look?" Everyone grimaced – even Krum, who had been stood stoically as they talked. "That bad, huh?"

"You look fine; just… you're still healing. You have scars everywhere, and your wand-arm is purple." Harry realized for the first time, that he could not see his body – only his head was visible, as if he were a corpse in a morgue. It unsettled him to no end.

"Will they stay?"

"Well, Alicia did say that they should all be gone after a day. A couple may remain," Draco said with a frown upon his face. Elise sighed and Krum grinned.

"Nothing wrong with a few scars, Corvus. Either way, we need to talk about what you did at the club today: and the next match." Krum leant forward, hands gripped around the foot of the bed.

"Why?"

"Your actions were silly. Look at you. If you are injured like this frequently, you'll have to drop out of the team. We can't protect you from yourself."

There was silence for a few minutes before Harry answered, "I don't get injured like this a lot. This is the first time."

"Make it the last, okay? You're a good chaser. I want you on the team."

Harry gave a nod to Krum who stood up straight – Harry knew why; he had heard the doors open and many footsteps that got louder by the second.

"What do you want?" Krum called out as he turned. Draco hurried over next to him as Elise watched from beside Harry.

"We want to speak with your chaser, Viktor. I presume that won't be a problem?" replied a sweet, but low voice. Harry had never heard it before.

"Actually, it is. I know why you're here. He isn't choosing a side."

"Aiken wants him to."

"Then tell Aiken what I said," Krum replied coolly. The other boy stepped into view, a similar height to Krum and light haired. The girl at his side, pretty but taller even than Krum shook her head.

"He won't like that. Do you really want to piss him off?"

"Vicki, you can tell your boyfriend to go fuck himself."

"I'd say he'd rather do that than her," Draco said, and Krum groaned as the tall, dark haired witch turned on the much smaller and younger Draco, wand drawn.

"Want to say that again, Malfoy?"

Krum quickly stepped forwards, grabbed her wrist, and turned it towards himself, his hand tight around Vicki's much smaller, petite wrist. She let out a yelp, and soon the light haired boy had turned his wand on Krum as well.

"Are you really trying to start a fight here, Rolf?" Krum asked his voice quiet but nobody dared speak over him.

"Only if you make me."

Draco levelled his own wand at Rolf before Elise grabbed and pulled him back. Harry bit his tongue; he wanted to say something but doing so could escalate the situation. Rolf stepped forwards as Vicki spoke once more.

"Let me go, Krum, or you'll regret it. There's two of us, and you're just a quidditch player."

Krum did not let go for a long moment before he pushed her away violently to the floor – she skidded across it like a ragdoll. Then, faster than Harry's eyes could track, Krum had drawn his wand and created a shield charm to deflect Rolf's stunning spell back into him. Vicki had gotten to her feet, and forced onto the defensive as Krum silently danced forwards, sending slashing curses, stinging hexes and bone breaking spells towards her. Vicki's face strained. Krum hesitated. Vicki lunged forwards as she sent off a dangerous, yellow curse that Harry had never seen before.

As it turned out, Vicki lunged into a trap. Krum deftly sidestepped the spell, and responded with three hexes before she could even finish saying "_Protego_!" Vicki hit the floor.

Draco, Elise and Harry just stared at Krum who stepped forwards and stunned Vicki silently.

"Krum, since when we-"Harry started but was interrupted by the man himself.

"I'm not just a pretty face, hm?" Krum joked, and the three second-years shared nervous laughter at the joke. "I was trained by my father; he was scared of losing another family member to a dark wizard."

"I don't think he has to be afraid with you around," Harry said. Krum laughed.

"Why are you laughing? Corvus is right. If Dimitri knew-"

"He knows, Draco," Krum said with a smirk.

"Then why don't you go the duelling club? Why don't you duel at tournaments?" Elise's voice brimmed with curiosity.

"I don't want to. I enjoy quidditch, I do not enjoy duelling."

It was a simple reason: as good as any, really, Harry supposed.

"I'm going to leave, I'll tell Alice to come in and clean up. You should be back in your bed by tonight, Corvus. Good night."

Viktor Krum left the three in stunned silence.

**1****st**** October, 1992, Durmstrang Institute**

"The main difficulty is the claws. My goblet always has metal bird claws for feet," Draco whined.

"That's because of the fact you aren't trying to transform the claws into a base, but the bird into a goblet alone. It is a goblet; it's fulfilled its purpose. Detail is everything, remember?" Elise lectured as they left the classroom late in the evening.

"To be fair, you do forget that when you're being told 'transform the bloody bird' repeatedly." Harry added.

"If you focused more on the lesson rather than sketching Alisa's ass, I bet you wouldn't be shouted at," Elise commented wryly.

"Wait, you too?" Draco looked at Harry with a smirk. Elise let out a groan and playfully punched them both on the shoulder.

"You two are never going to get girlfriends."

"Well, we are both rich. We won't have an issue."

"Girlfriends, not whores, Draco," Harry pointed out dryly.

"What's the difference, reall- ow!" Draco rubbed his arm after Elise's violent punch, groaning loudly, "Was that necessary, woman?"

"It always is with you," Elise tutted. Harry hid his grin.

As they reached Draco and Harry's room, they hurried inside. Nachash eagerly rushed towards Harry who let him slide around his shoulders where he rested. For the first week, Elise had been uncomfortable with Nachash but over time come to like the snake – although she still refused to feed him mice.

"Any word about those two in the hospital?"

"Well, we know that they went to you because of your attack on James now, so Aiken's chosen the Death Eater's side," Elise said.

"It honestly seems like all of the best duellists and high achievers have chosen the Dark Lord. I wonder why," Draco mused sarcastically: they all knew why he thought so. To a pureblood, especially a Malfoy, it was logical.

Elise ignored Draco's comment, "There was a fight last night, involving-"

"Involving Aiken, yeah, I heard. He hospitalized two people, didn't he?" Corvus answered.

"Christoffer and his girlfriend," Draco replied.

A grim silence settled over them. Aiken was merciless, and Christoffer was not an easy target by any means. Fear settled over them. Harry, and Draco, would not stand a chance. Moreover, if he was going after friends and family of those opposing him, Elise was at risk as well. Their worst fears had been confirmed.

They decided to play a game to cheer themselves up: at first they took turns playing wizard chess, where Draco beat Harry (if only barely) before being smashed by Elise. Harry and Draco ended up having a push up competition, which Draco won comfortably before, much to their surprise, barely edging out Elise. After that, they decided to study for the next hour and a half.

"You know, I believe that I am starting to like Charms and Transfiguration more than the other subjects," Draco commented, "Well, apart from the Dark Arts and Potions."

"What about Magical Theory?" Harry asked, lifting his head from the thick tome on that very subject.

"Too theoretical, I like practical."

Elise snorted a giggle, "You don't like Magical Theory because it's too theoretical. What did you expect?"

Draco scowled, "You're the ones who asked."

"One, not ones," Elise pointed out, "Corvus asked."

Harry ducked his head instinctually just in time for Draco's shoe to fly through the space his head had previously occupied. "I wonder if we can get Dimitri to tutor us more. You know, outside of the twilight sessions." Harry poked his head up again as he spoke.

"I do doubt that'd be possible. As he said last year, at this point it's more practice than theory. You know, Corvus, if you can become consistent with a shield spell, you would-"

Harry interrupted Draco, "become one of the better duellists at the school. Hardly. You saw Krum. And Aiken is supposedly much better, so, I'd still have a long way to go."

Elise sighed, "You're both selling yourselves short. Without a doubt, you two are the strongest duellists in the first three years and reasonable even for a fourth year standard."

"There's a world of difference between a fourth year and even a sixth year though, Elise," Harry contradicted.

There was silence for a few uncomfortable minutes.

"You know why you're not as strong as you could be, don't you, Corvus?" Draco asked and Harry stiffened, "I'm guilty of it too."

"What?"

"Look at how we fight. If you ignore style – look at my father. My father wins his duels based not off of the spells he uses, but how he uses them."

"Well, obviously. I do that too."

"No, not like him. Or even like your dad. Don't you remember Dimitri's duel at the start of first year?"

How could he not? Dimitri had turned Hans's telekinetic attack with three tables into a firestorm of blazing wooden splinters. Moreover, the two teachers had been duelling for _fun_. It had only been earlier this year when Dimitri duelled another teacher (and won); that they realized now neither was really trying their absolute hardest.

"Okay, sure, but it's not like we could do something like that, right?"

There was another long pause, and then Elise spoke the words that Harry had secretly been dying to hear.

"Why don't we try?"

* * *

It was late – if they were caught at this time, they would be punished to no end; especially with all of the infighting at the school. It had not been easy sneaking through the corridors, but breaking into the hall used for the duelling club was different: a simple _alohomora_ and they were in.

"Seriously, that is all the protection they have?" Draco asked incredulously.

"Well, to be fair, it is just a giant empty room."

"Touché."

Harry went to the centre of the room and peered around as Draco and Elise positioned a few tables and chairs close to him. A sudden thought struck him, one that was rather obvious in hindsight.

"Um. How did he turn the wood into splinters?" Harry asked. Both Draco and Elise paused: it was apparent neither of them had considered this either. They stood there awkwardly, unsure of what to do.

"Well, it kind of, splintered apart – like the bone breaking curse," Elise pointed out, "but then again, he could have just transfigured it."

"Maybe we need help," supposed Draco.

Harry did not want to admit it, but this tiny stumbling block put a halt on everything. It proved, in a way, that he still was not ready to enter the big leagues. "Surely we can do this by ourselves?" Harry asked.

"Without knowing the spell incantation?" Draco asked doubtfully.

"Well, non-verbal magic doesn't require an incantation. It's the desired effect, your focus upon that and the wand movement," Harry responded.

"You're surely not suggesting attempting non-verbal magic, right? Are you?" Elise's voice expressed every doubt possible without having to elaborate upon them. She was scared for him, Harry noticed, and it filled his heart with both anger and happiness.

"Yes. Come on, we'll learn it eventually – why not now?"

"Because the last time you tried to push your boundaries you ended up half dead in a hospital bed," Elise explained, her brows drawn taut.

Harry scowled and clenched his fists into balls. He drew his wand, anger and shame coursing through him now: all traces of happiness gone at the reminder of his failure.

Elise stepped forwards, but Draco gripped her shoulder and pulled her back as Harry raised his wand and furrowed his brows.

His wand began to emit an intense light at its tip, a wordless illumination spell before it faded and gave way to a circular motion. There was a screech upon the floor from the tables and chairs, and an intense throbbing started in Harry's head. He was slowly moving the furniture, each motion of his wand pushing them just a little further.

Harry grit his teeth, it was hard: the pain inside his head was growing exponentially. The furniture faltered as he thought of the headache that had begun. He shook his long, wild hair and kept on, but he had spent himself, his fire exhausted.

"Corvus!" Elise and Draco exclaimed.

"You managed it. Well, sort of," Draco pointed out.

"Sort of. Still, that's brilliant!" Elise exclaimed.

"Thanks," Harry accepted the praise: he was too exhausted to refute it. However, he knew that his brief achievement had been situational, and he probably would not be able to do it efficiently for a long time.

"Not a completely pointless night then," Draco intoned in a bored kind of voice as they cleared away the furniture.

"Not completely."

**Neville**

**2****nd**** October, 1992, Hogwarts**

Neville found himself rather frustrated that dinner: Ron sat by his side the entire day, talking about the Chudley Cannons. They had a game that night: a huge one, in fact. Every radio had been talking about it. It had gotten to the point where the teachers set up a radio in the great hall so the students could listen to the match together. It meant the hall was noisy, packed full of students, and Ron was next to him talking his ear off.

"Ron, you know you've literally not stopped talking about the match for the last two hours, right?" Hermione's voice relieved Neville: she was just as fed up with Ron's incessant speech as he was.

"You don't understand, Hermione, it's a quidditch thing," Ron retorted rudely before the great hall went silent.

"_We are afraid that we have to halt our coverage of the Chudley Cannons v Hollyhead Harpies match to bring you some breaking news._" An air of mystery and fear had occupied the hall: what was so important?

"_There has been a mass breakout at Azkaban. Among the escaped are numerous high profile Death Eaters and other supporters of You-Know-Who. The Ministry urges all wizards and witches to be on the lookout, and to contact the Ministry in the event of emergency or strange behaviour._"

Panic broke out: no one had broken out from Azkaban before, and suddenly there was a mass breakout. However, there was only one thing on Neville's mind: his parent's torturers were now free. His hands shook with fear and he squeezed his eyes shut. What if they came for him? What if they tried to hurt his parents again?

Nobody noticed Neville's behaviour, he had always been prone to nervous fits and no one knew about his parents. He was thankful for it; in all honesty, for he doubted that he would able to respond to their questions.

Neville rose from the table, quietly mumbling an excuse as he left the table – his hand wound around his wand tightly enough to choke the life from it. It was his father's wand, and a source of constant frustration for him. McGonagall had frequently told him to get his own, but his grandmother prohibited him. In a way, he was thankful for the wand – it felt like his parents were always with him, always by his side.

But, just like his parents, the wand was never able to truly work for or help him.

He grimaced; he wanted to tell his grandmother how he felt: how it was not just his fault that he wasn't the best in class. He needed a wand that chose him. McGonagall had told him as much, at least.

"Are you alright, Neville?" asked a young, redheaded first year. He was quick to recognize her as Ginny Weasley.

"Uh, y-yeah, thanks, Ginny," he replied nervously, the girl nodded and carried on her way. Did he really look that bad? Ginny usually never spoke to him. He resorted to running as fast as he could carry his pudgy body up the stairs towards the Gryffindor common room, stumbling over the stairs. However, in the Fat Lady's corridor was Pansy Parkinson and Millicent Bulstrode.

"Hey there, _fatso_, trying to find the kitchens again?" Pansy called out, her voice high and shrill. Neville did his best to ignore her, his hands shaking.

"Didn't you hear me?" Pansy sounded affronted: she had always craved attention. "I asked if you were trying to find the kitchens again, Longbottom."

Millicent snorted loudly and stepped in front of Neville, her large, stocky build towering over him.

"Go away," muttered Neville. Millicent gave him a push. Neville's hands curled into fists before Pansy just sighed and Millicent stepped aside.

"You're no fun, Longbottom." Pansy said as she flicked away a strand of hair. Neville carried on, and rushed to his bed where he laid and cried.

**Dumbledore**

**2****nd**** October, 1992, Hogwarts**

"This is concerning," Remus said, "very much so. Do we know whether it was Voldemort himself or an ally?"

Dumbledore shook his head, "Nothing so far. Severus is with them now, trying to figure it all out."

"With them? You mean-"

"Yes, Remus, the Death Eaters and Lord Voldemort." Dumbledore watched as Remus's face contorted into a frown. "Do not worry for us, I trust Severus with my life."

"It's him I'm worried about. An accomplished liar he may be, but Voldemort is dangerous, and with his followers – well, it's not the best place for anyone. Even Severus."

"I imagine that he'd be surprised to know you worry about him."

"I never clung to our rivalry like he did – but, then again, circumstances were different for him."

Dumbledore nodded. A swelling took place in his chest, as if his heart had expanded when he looked at Lupin. The man had come so far.

"Albus, listen… I have something, ahem," Lupin tugged at his frayed collar, "that I think could be useful."

"Is that why you wanted to come here tonight?" Dumbledore asked with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Yes."

"And is it to do with how you think that they could have broken out of Azkaban?"

"Yes – well, maybe. However, I think it's too… dangerous? Too dangerous not to tell you." Lupin grimaced, scratching at his scars. Dumbledore knew Lupin too well, and knew exactly how important the young man thought this was.

"In our fifth year, the three of them – James, Peter and… Sirius – er. They became animagi. They did it in order to be with me when I transformed."

Dumbledore blinked, peering over his half-moon glasses at Lupin. "That is extraordinary. At fifteen, you say?" He shook his head slowly, a smile growing upon his face. He knew what Lupin was implicating, but at the same time, he could not help but appreciate the extraordinary feat. "The resourcefulness of children when it comes to helping their friends will never cease to amaze me."

"It – it did help me. It made some of my darkest nights into the brightest and best of my life. But – I think, well. I know how Sirius escaped the aurors. I also think he aided in the breakout at Azkaban."

"What form did he take?" Dumbledore asked, a spark of curiosity burning bright inside him.

"Sirius? Sirius took the shape of a dog," Lupin said bitterly, "Peter the form of a rat, and James was a stag."

"I find it curious, that, don't you think?"

"What?" Lupin asked, eyes still wide: Dumbledore did believe that this wasn't the reaction he had expected.

"Dogs are known for being loyal. Rats for being mischievous and sneaky, and stags – pride, and also known as the enemy of snakes."

"Funny. Peter should have been a dog, not Sirius," Lupin muttered bitterly: he was acting more like a petulant child now than the adult he usually was. Dumbledore was well aware he was prone to this at times, that he let his façade crack.

"The form an animagus takes, is the one most representative of themselves." He mulled the possibility over in his head. It seemed unlikely, and very much illogical. But, what Sirius did was not particularly loyal, and it had been entirely unexpected. It would be safe to hold doubts, Albus decided.

"Well. I guess not completely."

"Perhaps, Remus. Perhaps."


	12. Chapter 12

**Sirius**

Sirius darted down the alleyway, the sound of a slammed door resonating down the crooked, thin alleyway. Sirius turned his shoulder and lowered his body as he kept running towards what looked like a brick wall.

The brick wall slammed inwards, snapped off its hinges: the door's illusion shattered. Sirius got himself up off the floor and dusted himself down as the three death eaters stared at him incredulously.

"Well, gentlemen, it seems we find ourselves in a bit of a standoff." Sirius continued to dust himself down as he spoke.

"A standoff? You're joking! You don't even have your wand out and there's three of us!" said the one in the middle whose pale wand found itself levelled at Sirius' face.

"Yes. A standoff, because you're stuck in a very small room with me."

The three death eaters looked at one another as Sirius cracked his neck threateningly.

"Okay, okay – we surrender," muttered the same death eater as before. Sirius nodded, and went towards the stairs before consciousness escaped him and his jaw connected with the stairs.

* * *

"Seriously, you thought that leaving us with our wands was a good idea?" boasted the death eater Sirius recognized from before.

"Yeah. Why don't you take off your mask for me?" he reached for his wand, but his wrists were bound to a chair. He shifted around – too tight to wriggle loose, but his fingers could move.

The three death eaters chuckled. The one who had spoken thus far (and seemed to be the leader) removed his mask. He was young: mid-twenties at the latest, Blonde haired and green eyed.

"Well. I must admit I expected something a bit more intimidating," muttered Sirius wryly.

"How about the Dark Lord then, hm? We sent for him. He's on his way."

"I admit that _is_ scarier."

The blonde man frowned, and tapped his wand against Sirius' skull. "I don't think you understand the situation you're in, exactly."

"No. I don't think you do: see, my friend outside has been waiting for – ah," Sirius checked the time on his watch, "About twenty minutes. In five more minutes, he will enter the room and rescue me as per our agreement."

The blonde man stood up quickly, his eyes darting around in wild panic. "Who? Who is it?"

"Well, he's about… six hundred years old? Give or take about five hundred. You know, he's rather spry for someone his age."

"Dumbledore!" cried out one of the other death eaters, who was much more portly.

"Well, you call him that. I call him something else."

"You wouldn't call him anything if we kill you before he comes in here, hm?" the blonde man had regained his confidence, a manic grin played at his lips as a dangerous sign of what was to come: or at least, what he thought was to come.

"I mean, arguably, I could come back as a ghost," Sirius offered. The blonde man slapped a hand to his face, his nails gripping onto his head. Sirius wondered whether that was just because of him.

"Where's the Dark Lord?" another man whispered from behind his cold, skull mask.

"I imagine," Sirius started, "That he decided not to come as undoubtedly he knows who's outside. And if I may flatter myself: who's just freed himself."

There was a brief moment of confusion before Sirius stood up and swung the chair he' been tied to over his head. There was a loud crack and the blonde death eater sunk to the floor. A yellow hex flew past his ear. He drew his wand and levelled it at them: the hexes stopped immediately.

And then the door opened, and in strode a wizard in a starry hat with a long, silver beard.

"I'm glad we've all come to an agreement," Dumbledore smiled.

* * *

**Harry**

**3****rd**** October, 1992, Durmstrang Institute**

Harry sat up late with his nose deep in a book. He'd really started to try to push his limits after the mass breakout; it had served as a painful reminder of why he needed to be at Durmstrang in the first place. He knew for a fact that if he came face to face with a death eater – any death eater – he wouldn't stand a chance.

"Are you still awake, Corvus?" Draco yawned, looking at him from across the room – he was in bed. Draco, for obvious reasons, hadn't been remotely as disturbed about the breakout as Harry had. And he couldn't really blame him: Draco didn't even know who he was; a fact that still left a rock in his stomach whenever he thought about it.

"Hey. Yeah. Reading."

"You're always reading. What is it?"

"_Magick Moste Evile._ Pretty old book, weird introduction too but has some good stuff in here."

"Really? Like what?"

"Uh. It has a huge list of spells, detailed instructions on each: we learnt a couple before. This guy invented tons of them."

"Huh." Draco sounded incredibly sleepy, so much so that it made Harry glance at his clock. It was nearly two in the morning.

"Hey. I'm going to get to sleep. Come on." Draco nodded in response and rolled over, Harry hesitated for a moment, his eyes lingering on a spell before putting the book down and extinguishing the ball of light he had conjured with his wand.

When Harry next woke, sunlight was streaming in through the windows and Elise was sat in one of their seats, reading.

"How long have you been there?" Draco asked confrontationally. He stood wearing nothing but his boxers. It was a credit to how close they all were that this fact didn't bother any of them.

"Well, it's nearly eleven, so about an hour."

"Wait, we missed breakfast?" Harry asked panicked, springing upright.

"Yeah. But if you're quick, you could catch brunch." Elise glanced at the clock and shut her book with a loud snap. Draco rushed into the semi-secret bathroom, which had fascinated Elise the first time she saw it. Her room had something similar, but much more obvious.

"Draco better be quick," Harry muttered only to her a disparaging yell in return.

"Shut up Corvus!"

Elise snickered. Corvus sighed, stretching as he pulled himself over the edge of the bed to stand: he moved over and grabbed a pair of boxers and trousers from his drawers so that when Draco slipped in, he was able to get out and be dressed quickly.

After around ten minutes, all three found themselves at the dining hall. It was full, more full than Harry could remember it being for a long time: with Krum sitting in the centre of the chaos.

"He did it!" cried Miranda as they forced their way through the crowd to sit at the table.

"Did it?" Draco asked, eyebrows raised.

"Bulgaria have selected him for their national team! He'll be trying out soon," Brandon filled in for them. A roar went up around them.

"Uh. Why aren't any of us taking part in… all that?" Elise asked, gesturing around herself.

"Well. Krum is kind of…"

"Shell shocked," Ash finished for Miranda. Alex poked the side of Krum's face: he only provoked him to blink.

"Uh. Wow. When does he start?"

"That's the bad news. Same day as our first match."

"Wait, what? So who's going to be seeker for us?" Harry asked, looking at Ash.

Everyone but Krum turned and looked straight at Harry.

* * *

"It's a stupid idea."

"Come on, not really: even Draco agrees that you're a better seeker than him."

"Only time I will ever admit to it too," Draco commented. "Seriously. When we practice, everyone notices the fact that you're perfect for seeker. It's just that-"

"Krum is better, yeah. He has to be the youngest player for Bulgaria in a century?"

"Well, if he plays, he'd be one of them," Elise said, "I looked it up."

They remained silent for a while as they walked down the corridors. There was an unsettling silence pervading the school, and it was setting Harry's worrying thoughts wild.

"What's happening down there?" Draco muttered, inconspicuously pointing down the corridor into a dimly lit closet. Harry rubbed his glasses and peered down – there were shadows moving wildly inside.

"No idea. Should we check it out?" Harry asked. Elise frowned.

"I really don't think that's a great idea." They both ignored her, and started to creep up on either side of the doorway. There was a grunting noise, and the sound of muffled kicks. Harry looked across at Draco whose face was contorted in concentration.

Harry jumped slightly as Elise's sudden breath tickled the hairs on his neck, and the noises halted.

"Who's there?" a low voice asked as Harry cursed under his breath. "Come here." The boy had an English accent, and as Harry looked across at Draco, he saw that he had come to the same conclusion.

_Thud_, the footstep resounded and Harry's hand tightened around his wand: one more step and he'd be around the corner.

And then, all of a sudden, there was a loud explosion from somewhere in the school and the three of them jumped. Draco sprang into action, and started to sprint down the corridor behind Harry. Harry swore, pushed Elise in front of him and ran after Draco, Elise at his side.

"_Impedius_." Draco fell to the floor. Harry turned around, and saw a very tall blonde boy with his wand outstretched towards them. Elise stopped a few feet ahead.

Harry's chest heaved, as the silence seemed to stretch on for an age.

"Black. Malfoy. Vulchanova," Aiken said gently. "What are you doing creeping around closets?"

As Harry opened his mouth, he realized how dry his throat was. Swallowing, he began speaking softly, "We were wondering what you were doing in there."

"I wouldn't think that's any of your business."

Harry grew incensed. He moved over and helped Draco up off the floor. "Yeah? Well, I wouldn't think what side we're on is any of _your_ business either. Funny how that works, isn't it?"

Silence ensued after Harry's words, Elise and Draco simply staring at him with wide eyes.

"Is that so?"

"Yeah. It is."

"Well. I'd also think that knocking out my girlfriend is fairly rude."

"That was Krum, not us," Draco said suddenly.

"Yes. But he didn't take his problem up with me. Maybe I should take my problem with him out on you. What do you think?"

Nobody dared speak. Aiken's face was cold and reserved, his thin lips squeezed together. And then Elise broke the silence. "Krum said you didn't hurt children," she blurted out.

Aiken looked rather startled, and focused his gaze upon Elise. "He would be correct."

"So… you'll let us go, won't you?"

Aiken hesitated. "I suppose so. But this is the only time. The next time, I will pay back Krum." With those final words, Aiken turned and strode away.

All three of them breathed a tremendous sigh of relief.

**4****th**** October, 1992, Durmstrang Institute**

"He let you go," Brandon said numbly, "You lucky bastards."

Krum was pensive as they finished their story, but everyone else, even the apathetic Alex looked relieved.

"We should tell Dimitri. He might put a stop to this," Krum decided finally.

"He won't do anything. He'd get punished if he stopped a fight – I mean, you know what Alexi is like." Miranda fiddled with her cutlery after she spoke, not looking up.

"It's bullshit. They're second years and Aiken's a murderer," Krum said, slamming a hand onto the table.

"I mean. What's the punishment for murder at Durmstrang?" Harry asked suddenly, to surprised glares from nearly the entire table.

"You're not considering…?" Elise trailed off. Draco shrugged.

"It's not a bad idea-"

"No. I meant, he can't actually kill us, can he?"

"Well," Krum started, "if they can link the killing back to him, he will be arrested. If not, ah, there is no punishment."

Harry looked over at Draco who nodded back; but Harry said nothing. He knew that nobody, least of all Elise, would agree with what he was thinking.

**Sirius**

**5****th**** October, 1992, Durmstrang Institute**

Sirius walked down the road, hood thrown up over his head as the rain cascaded down onto the ground. It was a quiet day out, especially for it being midday in central London. Something that Sirius appreciated: he had needed to be alone for a while. Ever since he had heard about the breakout, a rage had filled him, a rage that had not filled him since their deaths.

And so he took to walks, collecting his thoughts. It was why he was surprised when he saw three familiar, unpleasant faces.

Alecto Carrow, her brother, and Antonin Dolohov, all stood at the end of the street, on both sides: there was no traffic, and Sirius suspected it was their doing.

"Sirius! Our old friend!" cried out Alecto in a falsely sweet tone. Her eyes were narrowed, and she let out a wheezy giggle as Dolohov stared intently at him. A few nearby muggles seemed startled, but carried on.

_Good, this is going to get ugly._

"Alecto. The years have been kind to you, I see, you look exactly like you did the last time I saw you," Sirius said sweetly. "It's just a shame you were ugly back then too."

Amycus's eyes widened, "You dare?"

Sirius smirked; he had always enjoyed this part. Dolohov silenced the siblings with a look. "Why are you here? I haven't bothered you three, have I?"

"You bothered the Dark Lord."

"I can't imagine why."

"Silence, Black. He is extending to you an offer: to let you, and your son join him." Dolohov spoke now; he was clearly the leader of the three.

"Yeah. I'm not going to accept that," Sirius said; his voice dropped an octave as he abandoned the pretence of peacefulness. "I'm sure he won't be too distraught."

"Well. He is, actually," Dolohov explained, his voice a soft growl, "See, he doesn't want the other side to have you either. Do you want to reconsider?"

Sirius sighed, looking down at his feet. His wand slipped into his grip from inside his coat, a single flick, and a few softly muttered words. The muggles around him sped up: as if they had suddenly remembered an urgent appointment. He glanced up; Dolohov was reaching for his wand.

Sirius suddenly sprang to the side behind a parked car as a yellow curse flew past. "_Sectumsempra!_"

There was a cry as Amycus went down. A flash of green flew overhead and he stood up, wordlessly summoning a shield spell that covered him.

"You can't win, there's three of us!" Dolohov roared. He didn't seem to be saying this for Sirius' benefit.

"That's what your kind always say," Sirius replied as he suddenly rolled forward and swung a parked car towards Dolohov: it sailed through the air and crashed into the building behind him with the sound of shattering glass.

"You'll have to do better than that!" Alecto's voice was high and gleeful, stood next to her brother whose wounds were already healed.

Sirius deflected a hex from Dolohov, and shielded another two from the siblings before he flourished with his wand, the glass behind the trio rose and darted towards them like deadly daggers.

"Duck!" Amycus cried, and they did – the glass stopped a few meters short of Sirius who smiled.

"See, the problem with your lot is you just fling unforgivable and hexes at people. You never figured what magic is capable of," he said, cockily. He flourished with his wand as he incanted under his breath – a yellow spell missed him by an inch. And then the red one slammed into the glass, shattering a portion of it.

Sirius swore under his breath as he finished the transfiguration and a series of mirrors slid out from where the glass was previously and started rotating archaically around all of them, reflecting their forms back onto them. Sirius spun:

And appeared behind the three who sent their curses in three different directions. Sirius rose his wand, and levelled it at Amycus Carrow.

"_Avada Kedavra._"

Amycus dropped to the floor like a marionette whose strings had just been cut.

Alecto howled with rage and anguish, and started shattering each of the mirrors as Dolohov rushed over, a shield spell surrounding them. Sirius swung his arm, and the car that had crashed into the building earlier flew out, transfigured into a long blade that aimed right for the two.

Dolohov swore and dropped the shield spell, and transfigured the long, scrap metal blade into iron dust that cut his and Alecto's robes to pieces but left them standing.

Sirius watched the two, his wand levelled: Alecto's wand shook.

"I killed Amycus Carrow," Sirius said musingly and Alecto howled and sent a cascade of killing curses towards Sirius who ducked.

"And what about your son?" cried Dolohov as Alecto's voice finally broke into sobs.

Sirius stiffened as he rose. He spun, and disapparated only to appear down the other side of the road again. There was a van driving towards the two behind them: if they didn't notice-

The van driver stepped on his brakes, stopping a metre short of the two death eaters. Alecto's eyes brimmed with furious rage. She spun around and threw the van towards Sirius with a swing of her arm.

There was a strangled scream as Sirius levitated the van down safely, the muggle diving out of the door as soon as he could. Sirius caught his breath before the van exploded and threw Sirius backwards.

"Your son's a dead boy! We know where he is! We got Karkaroff!" Alecto screamed.

Sirius rose, hand shaking as blood dripped from his brow. The muggle was prone on the ground only a few metres to his left.

"_Avada Kedavra!_" he cried, but a car that Dolohov flung towards him blocked the curse. Sirius was ready, though, and transfigured the car into a series of metallic birds that flew around towards the duo that faced him now.

Dolohov dealt with them, a sweep of water and they rusted and plummeted from the sky: and then Sirius' killing curse collided with Alecto's.

There was a brief explosion of brief light that Sirius took advantage of, moving forwards through the smoky street, ducking behind a parked car. The explosion had shattered the windows, and Sirius peered through their shattered remains to find his target-

Sirius was unable to block the withering curse that hit his left ear, letting out a loud cry of pain.

"Over there!" Dolohov roared.

Sirius flung the car he hid behind into the air and transfigured it into a giant metal cage that fell down around the two. Yet as he raised his wand - a spell on his lips to turn the cage into magma - the cage simply bent inwards before forming one large column at the centre of the cage. Dolohov caught Sirius' eyes and they raised their wands.

"_Expelliarmus_!" Sirius cried, suddenly diverting his wand towards Alecto who was caught unawares mid-jinx – her wand sailed through the air before Dolohov halted it mid-air and returned it to himself with a summoning charm.

An invisible rope hoisted Dolohov into the air, and the wand clattered to the ground noisily. As Dolohov went to undo himself, Alecto dived for her wand and there was a blinding green light. Sirius lowered his wand, panting for a moment.

"_Sectumsempra!_" cried a voice from the shadows, a voice Sirius recognized even as he turned and screamed, blood staining his robes. He spun, desperate to get away, and he saw muggles arriving: police, bystanders, cowering at the carnage.

Then he fell down onto the gravel, panting as blood started to line the drive of the manor, black iron-wrought gates turning to smoke just as his vision left him.

**Dumbledore**

**5****th**** October, 1992, Hogwarts**

"Terrorist attack in centre of London," Dumbledore read quietly, his fingers rubbing against the newspaper's edge. Severus stood only a few feet from his desk, his expression dark.

"Is that what they're saying it is?"

"I imagine that our dear minister helped persuade them of the answer."

"What is his view on the attack?" Remus asked, and Dumbledore took off his glasses and sighed as he put them down onto the desk.

"He is blaming the whole thing on Sirius Black."

Remus blanched at the name. "I still can't believe it, all along, all this time?"

"Always," Severus said, "Always innocent."

Dumbledore stood up from his desk, and moved to lay a hand upon Remus' shoulder. "You cannot blame yourself Remus: none of us could have known."

"But it means that Harry is still alive!"

"And is masquerading as Sirius' son, yes." Dumbledore nodded, before he looked over to his friend, "Severus, what do you think we should do?"

"Well. We need to get Potter to Hogwarts. He is not safe at Durmstrang." Severus wringed his hands together, "Have we heard anything more from the teacher who contacted you?"

"Plenty. Some of it relevant, some of it irrelevant. It seems that Harry is further along than anyone had thought – he was able to successfully perform, and hold – at least for a few seconds – a fully blown shield charm against two opponents." The words that Trelawney had said rung in his ears again, and a sense of disease grew within Dumbledore.

"But he's only in his second year," Severus said, an expression of disbelief upon his hooked features.

"What's more," Dumbledore carried on, "Is that they approached him a few days later, asking about non-verbal spells."

"Surely not?" Remus spoke now, "Are you sure that this teacher isn't exaggerating? To try and impress you, or show off about Durmstrang?"

"He does not strike me as that kind of man." Dumbledore turned away, moving his hand from Remus.

"You trust too much, Dumbledore." Snape sneered.

"On the contrary, Severus, I would argue that I don't trust enough," Dumbledore replied, glancing back at the Daily Prophet upon his desk.

"What are we doing about Harry?" Remus demanded, looking between the two of them.

"Well, we cannot kidnap him from his bed – nor anywhere whilst he is still at Durmstrang. Sirius was smart: it's the one place that is out of reach for us." Dumbledore looked around him, at the portraits of his former peers.

"That isn't really the case though, is it?"

"What do you mean, Severus?" Dumbledore asked politely.

"Well, we have a contact at Durmstrang. If we could convince him to bring Harry to us, we wouldn't have to wait long."

"You forgot, Severus," Remus started: Snape turned around, startled, "that he doesn't know Corvus' real identity."

"And, he may be unwilling to deliver one of his students to us at our bequest," Dumbledore added on quietly. However, the seed of an idea was planted. He had previously arranged, and set in motion plans for the triwizard tournament to restart at Hogwarts, and it was on schedule to begin in the fourth year.

"Back at square one then: what do we do?" Remus asked.

"We get Dimitri to take Harry to the triwizard tournament," Dumbledore said quietly. "When he arrives, I can talk to him in my office. We do not spring the trap at the start: we let him compete, we let him grow accustomed to Hogwarts, and we encourage him to find new friends amongst the students. Then, at the end of the year, win or lose, we do not allow him to leave. We keep him at the school."

Snape smiled, "That sounds as if it could work. What about the Malfoys, and his father?"

"I can deal with Sirius," Lupin said quietly. "I can make him see sense."

"I was depending on that, thank you Remus. The Malfoys will not make an active move against me: Lucius is a politician, and politics have no influence at Hogwarts; not while I remain Headmaster. Their son will return to Durmstrang, I see no reason why we should keep Draco Malfoy with Harry. Some friendships," Dumbledore said, gently moving his hand through the flame, "are not always healthy."

"You said before that wasn't an issue," Remus started, and Severus nodded curtly. Dumbledore turned, and he could see the confusion on their faces.

"What I tell you now, does not leave this room. I trust both of you," Dumbledore sighed, adjusting his glasses. "When I was younger, much younger, and recently graduated from Hogwarts, my mother died. I returned home to look after my sister – yes, Remus, I had a sister – whose magic was uncontrollable. I was angry, scared, and trapped.

"And then he came. Gellert Grindelwald. We started to talk, and soon we filled each other's heads with ideas of 'the greater good'. It was intoxicating, to say the least, and I soon developed an infatuation with the boy, and it was that infatuation that led me to overlook the truth of what we were doing – that, and my own ambition. It took a vicious duel between the two of us and my brother over my sister, and, ahem, she was slain.

"I never knew whose curse it was that killed her, but I felt responsible: indeed, my brother still, and rightfully so, holds me responsible. Grindelwald fled, of course, and luckily so, for I fear had he not I would have been seduced by a darker path."

Remus looked at Albus, wide eyed yet silent. "So, you were in love with Grindelwald? The Dark Lord?"

"Yes, Remus. That, is why I think the friendship between Malfoy and Harry could be unhealthy. I would be a fool if I did not know what Lucius was doing: he is fostering a new Dark Lord with Potter whose talent exceeds that of anyone his age. Even I would have struggled to achieve what he has at his age."

"Do you honestly think that stealing this boy away from all he has ever known will make him sympathetic to our cause, Dumbledore, truly?" Snape asked slowly, as if taking care not to insult his friend.

"It is drastic, but I believe to leave him alone would only be more devastating to us as a whole, Severus."

The three of them were silent, and Albus knew there would be much argument over his plan: he welcomed it; he wanted to find a reason to leave the boy alone. He would never seek to rob Harry of what made him happy, but he feared it was their last resort.

* * *

I know this chapter is shorter than the others: that is because I am trying to move away from having 7000 word long chapters as it takes much longer to write, and ultimately they end up becoming rather plodding in pace.

A guest reviewed and asked about "animagus shenanigans" and I'd noticed a few others wondered what form Harry's animagus would take

I'll just say that Harry won't become an animagus for a long while yet, but I'm of the opinion people's animagus is the same as their patronus, and that is something that will be covered much sooner.


	13. Chapter 13

**Sirius**

"**Are you sure about this?**"

"Completely," Sirius replied. He looked James up and down. He looked exhausted, but nonetheless cheerful, and more importantly: ready. Sirius couldn't say he felt the same way James looked, however. His arms felt like logs, his eyes stung, and he very much fancied a long sit down with a cup of piping hot tea. _What if we get stuck?_ Sirius thought, _What if we can't return back to normal?_

James placed a hand on Sirius's shoulder, and Sirius looked into his friend's eyes. Peter was sat not far from them, his eyes downcast, as he made no effort to hide his standard miserable outlook. Looking at Peter made Sirius feel better; there was no way he looked as pathetic as that, and it made his chest swell with egotistical pride.

"Right. Three, two – one!" James cried, and Sirius closed his eyes, focusing upon the buzzing feeling that he had been learning to trap for the last few months. It was there: the buzz of magic, like an exposed coil of wire. He didn't know how quite to describe it: it was very much eldritch in nature, despite being part of himself. He was dimly aware of his arms twitching and cracking, contorting and grinding. Yet, he felt no pain, only a warm, electric sensation that coursed through his body.

And then, he opened his eyes: the world was different, the colours wrong, but as he looked at the proud stag and quiet rat nearby, he felt nothing but warmth within his heart.

**Harry**

**6****th**** October, 1992, Durmstrang Institute**

**Harry's head hurt**. In fact, it seared with agony: his scar felt, for the first time in his life, as if it was being prised apart by demonic claws. Harry writhed on the floor, hands clutching at the scar that was hidden upon his forehead; that made him invisible to the people who sought to hurt him. As he thrashed and writhed, his head connected with the cold marble floor, breaking the skin, just as his nails raked the floor.

"_Dolohov. You have failed me."_

Harry roared as the voice filled his head, and he felt a hand try to close around his wrist. He lashed out, and there was a strangled yell, and the familiar crunch of broken bone. The voice didn't just come from his head, it was if he could hear himself speaking, hear his cold, high-pitched voice.

"_No! Master! We managed to get him-"_

Harry felt his arm raise and lash out. He felt the hand connect with the cold, sweaty cheek of the man that appeared both before and in his mind, like an impressionist painting he was only a shadow, a vague shape. It felt as if Harry had four arms, four legs, two heads; two hearts.

"_Severus got him! And even he could not fix the mess you made, Dolohov! The Carrows, dead. The Ministry of Magic alerted, and what's more, according to Severus, Dumbledore is now aware of Sirius' innocence."_

Harry's voice was both furious and unfamiliar, furious and calm, deadly and peaceful. He felt himself rising to his feet, his wand in his hand: he could see what was around him now. A scared Draco and Elise stood before him, watching. Elise's eyes were wide, watching, and Draco's features, shocked and contorted-

Agony enveloped him again, and a scream tore out of him. The shadow that was Dolohov was in front of him, on his knees. His eyes were red, his face bruised. Harry's wand raised itself, levelled at his head.

"_You have to be punished, Dolohov," _Harry heard himself say, even though his lips never moved. _"Understand, I will not tolerate failure again."_

Harry heard screaming, echoed both around him, and in his mind as the shadow flailed in front of him. He rose into the air, the tendons in his neck straining visibly as his back arched back. Harry could dimly see the flailing form of Draco in front of him, in the air.

There was a flash of red, the shadow dropped to the ground as did Draco, and Harry blocked the spell silently: his phantom arms felt like they were attached to his own by string, he couldn't move one without the other.

"_Master, what is it?"_ a soft, tempered voice spoke from the side.

"_Nothing, just a –"_

Harry blocked again, except this time, the shield did not form just in one area, but rather in multiple spots to deflect each of the crimson stunning spells. Harry's wand moved of its own accord, his arm moved unwillingly, and he spoke without meaning. The spells stopped, and a new shadow moved into place, beside Draco.

"_Master?"_

"_I feel, almost as if I am elsewhere. Curious."_ Harry hissed.

"_What do you mean, my lord?"_

"_Severus. You are an accomplished legilimens, are you not? I can see it in your eyes: you suspect something. What is it?" _The nasal voice that escaped Harry was low, quiet, yet carried more authority and expectation than Harry had ever heard.

"No!" Harry roared as the pain flared again, and this time it was his own voice. He fell to his knees, screaming as he slammed his head into the floor.

"_My lord – I, believe that you are possessing someone."_

"_And I am not aware of it, Severus?" _The nasal voice sounded incredulous.

"_More that you did not intend it, my lord."_

Harry felt his phantom limb lift his arm, and he saw a vague shadow in front of him: was it Dolohov again? Harry couldn't tell, he couldn't think. There was only the pain in his scar.

"Stay back!" roared Draco as Elise stepped forwards. He recognized the voice: why were they staying back? They should help him! Harry wanted the pain to stop, why wouldn't they stop the pain?

His wand sparked, and Harry tried to bit his tongue but as soon as he moved his jaw, another scream erupted. Harry tried to focus on a single, lone memory, of when he had a snowball fight with Elise and Draco. His eyes strained, and the vein in his head felt as if it were about to pop as he tried to concentrate.

In front of Harry, he saw a pale wand erupt flames: except, the flames seemed slightly off, as if it were a pack of rats swarming rather than billowing, as flames should. The phantom limb was still, more precise than Harry had thought possible.

Then, Harry watched, as the flames formed into a single huge snake, which towered above the shadowy Dolohov. Harry was startled, his head felt close to bursting as he focused on the memory, of the cold ice and slush: and he saw that the fiery creature existed only in this shadow world.

But his own, his real, wand was not without its own activity: fiery animals escaped and quickly vanished for just a flash. Then, as his the pressure in his head built, the world went dark.

**7****th**** October, 1992, Durmstrang Institute**

"**He's waking up**," spoke the familiar voice of the nurse in the ward. Harry's eyes were open, and he saw wary figures around his bed: Draco, Elise, and Dimitri. As Harry parted his lips, he gasped loudly, breathing heavily.

"Corvus!"

Harry blinked wildly: why was Dimitri there? Where had the pain gone? His mind reeled endlessly, and it felt like he was falling through an abyss. Gradually, he realized what had happened, what _must_ have happened. He tried to sit up, and as he did so, he found Dimitri's wand pointed into his face. He slowly raised his hands.

"Uh, how did I get here?" Harry asked lamely.

Draco and Elise looked at one another, "you, uh-"

"I know. I remember," Harry grimaced as he saw the expressions of shock onto their faces, "That wasn't me. I had no control, it was like I was-"

"Possessed," finished Dimitri. "However, if you remember it, you clearly were not possessed." Dimitri lowered his wand, eyes still fixed on Harry warily. Harry grimaced: he had never seen Dimitri look at him quite this way before, like he was a feral animal rather than his student. Harry looked away and searched for his glasses so that he didn't have to look at them. _I am dangerous, though,_ he thought, _I performed the cruciatus curse on Draco._

"Do you have any idea of what happened, Corvus?" Draco asked, and Harry hesitated. He remembered hearing a familiar voice from his lips, and judging by what the two people were calling him… Harry shivered, a cold chill running down his spine. He wanted to tell them what he had seen, what he had saw. _But they might figure out who I am, _he thought_._ It wouldn't make sense for him, with no connections to Voldemort to suddenly see into his mind.

"Uh, no," Harry answered, staring at the table beside him.

"Are you sure?" Dimitri pressed, "If you remember what happened, then-"

"I said I don't remember," Harry snapped. The room fell silent.

Dimitri nodded after a few moments, "As you say."

Harry's guts felt like a stirring pot: one that was going to boil over at any moment. He needed to talk to his dad; he needed to talk to Sirius. He would be able to help him: he always did. Harry grimaced, and pulled on his glasses: there was a crack in one of them, and so Harry reached for his wand only to find it missing. He searched around frantically until-

"Here you go, Corvus," Elise said, and handed him his wand. Draco flinched.

He nodded, and pointed the wand at his own head.

"_Reparo_."

**Sirius**

**9****th**** October, 1992, Malfoy Manor**

"**Sirius.** We need to talk." Lucius stood over Sirius who was lain upon the plush sofa in the Malfoy's drawing room, trying to nap as the various potions in his system helped him back to health. It was nearing dusk, judging by the light from the open windows, and the air that blew in chilled Sirius pleasantly; if he had been in any shape to, he'd have turned into a dog.

"What is it?"

"Well, I just grabbed this letter that Corvus sent for you, and on my way to give it to you, I read it." Lucius extended the letter towards Sirius who saw Harry's neat writing upon the parchment, he also saw the blotches of ink that splattered it and the randomly thicker words. Sirius took it, winced as he shifted his arm, and began to read.

_Dad,_

_Something's wrong. I don't know what happened. I was with Draco and Elise, and then I just felt this horrible pain in my head, like my scar was ripping itself open, and I could hear his voice. He was angry, and punishing someone named Dolohov: I was speaking. I felt like I was him – I even mirrored his actions in real life. It hurt so much, dad, I was screaming until he spoke (apparently I was hissing in parseltongue), and when he tortured the man named Dolohov, it made me cast the cruciatus curse on Draco. I didn't mean too. I think it was Voldemort. Is it do with my scar? I'm scared: he realized that I was in his head after a while, and was using me like a puppet, blocking spells from Draco and Elise. I didn't want to, but he was making me do it. I can't tell them what happened: they might realise who I am. Dimitri was there, Draco and Elise had called for him, so the staff know what happened too._

_What if he comes for me, dad? He was starting to figure it all out at the end, talking to a man named Severus. Talking about occlumency. How do I stop it from happening? Can I?_

_I want to tell them. I don't like keeping this secret: I'm scared, and I want to talk to them about what happened. What if it happens again? Nobody would know, and they still don't understand what happened. I think Draco is scared of me now. I can't blame him, I want to make things right. Voldemort said that Dumbledore knows you're innocent now. Does that mean I can go to Hogwarts? Does that mean he can help us? I don't know what's happening._

_Please reply soon, I'm scared._

_Harry,_

Sirius felt cold, and not because of the breeze. He looked up at Lucius, his fingers tightening around the letter despite the flaring pain in his arms. "So," Sirius started, "the secret's out." Sirius didn't look away: he knew that Lucius had started to win this game of chess, that he had finally uncovered what he – doubtlessly – must have been wondering for months. Lucius wasn't smirking, but the reflection of Sirius' own despondent face in his eyes was all that Sirius needed to know what he was thinking.

"You did well. Nearly twelve years without a single soul knowing where he was. Who he was," Lucius complimented. "I already knew, but it is always nice to have one's ruminations reassured. I'm sure you suspected my plotting as well." Sirius thought that Lucius had given him too much credit: if he'd truly been suspicious, truly realized what Lucius had been planning, he wouldn't have let him get so close to the truth.

"What are you going to do?"

"Nothing," Lucius replied smoothly. "Actually, I was thinking of sending Corv- pardon me, Harry, something."

Sirius scowled, he was rubbing it in – no, the blonde git was warning him. "What?"

"A diary, to keep track of his thoughts." Lucius sounded sincere, but Sirius wanted to laugh: a diary? What good would a diary do? He decided he didn't trust Malfoy.

"You're bullshitting, what's the catch?"

"There isn't one. It may help him: and when we can, we can read it and get a better impression of what's going on. I have my theories, of course."

"Fine. Send him the bloody diary." Sirius wanted to break something: his face felt hot, and his ears pounded like he were marching to war. His fingers tightened like a vice, and the pain that coursed through his body felt subdued, if only for a moment. And then he realized: "Severus. He mentioned Severus with Voldemort."

"So, not only did wound you, but he has returned to the Dark Lord."

"He didn't bloody wound me, he tried to kill me."

"No, I think not," Lucius started, "for if he had, he would have never bothered with anything but the killing curse. You had never seen him-"

"The coward would never dare face me," Sirius interrupted,

"so there was nothing for him to fear." Lucius carried on, "I feel that Severus has a much more complicated agenda than you would think at first glance. Where that agenda comes from, we know not."

"I've told you, his work for Dumbledore is a front."

"Speaking of Dumbledore: he now knows that you're innocent. What shall you do, Sirius?" Lucius ignored him. Sirius fumed.

"Nothing. And what about you, now that you know about Harry?"

"As you said: nothing. I want to see how he acts without outwards influence," Lucius replied.

Sirius wanted to shout, he wanted to scream, he wanted to shake Lucius by his neck, to choke and crush his neck. The pain returned to his arm, and his scowl only grew: he was powerless. He had lost to Lucius, he couldn't keep Harry's secret safe any longer. Maybe Hogwarts would have been better: Sirius may have lost Harry, but he would at least be safe.

He wasn't safe at Durmstrang.

**Harry**

**12****th**** October, 1992, Durmstrang Institute**

**Harry sat alone at the table**, silently eating his lunch when the package arrived in front of him, dropped by Krum, who looked confused, frustrated, and exasperated all at once: Harry could see it in his brow, lowered ever so slightly, but without the energy to lower it enough to glare. His lips curled downwards unpleasantly, and his eyes half closed.

"Why are you on your own, Corvus?"

"Draco and Elise are scared of me."

Krum sighed, and sat down beside Harry to lean upon the table, "You're wrong. They're not scared of you."

"You don't know what happened," muttered Harry.

"I do. Dimitri told me everything, as did Draco."

Harry blinked slowly, and looked back to his captain whose eyes bored into him. Krum looked more tired than ever, and Harry noticed how gaunt his cheeks looked, how his usual brooding features seemed unable to sustain an invisible weight. Shoulders slouched, and back bent, he looked completely different from the boy who had commanded Harry's respect for so long now. "Then you know why they avoid me."

"They don't. You avoid them. They're scared _for_ you, not _of_ you."

"Then why didn't they come over here?" Harry demanded.

"Because you're the one who sat here in the first place. Often, Corvus, the people we think are cutting us off, are the ones being cut off. It's hard to see the effect you have on others."

"But I cast the cruciatus curse on him-"

"And he understands that wasn't you. You've never cast it before: I doubt anyone has successfully on their first attempt. Talk to them, Corvus. They're worried about you." Krum stood up, and spoke one last time, "By the way, the package is from Malfoy's dad."

(*)

Harry was sat up late; late enough that Draco was soundly asleep, when he unpackaged the diary that Lucius Malfoy had sent him. It was a rather plain, ordinary book: black leather cover, and seemingly from a variety shop in London. Harry flicked open the first page, and blinked in surprise: there was already a name there! _T.M. Riddle_. Harry thought it odd and idly wondered whether it had belonged to a friend of Lucius Malfoy.

As Harry flicked through the pages, he saw that they were all blank. He turned back to the first page, and dipped a quill into his inkwell.

_My name is Corvus Black, although my real name is Harry Potter._ While Harry wondered whether writing down the secret of his identity was a good idea, he noticed something rather odd starting to occur: the words he had wrote seemed to be slowly swallowed by the page until they were completely vanished. Bewildered, Harry leant down to inspect the book more closely before yelping in sudden surprise.

_Hello Harry Potter. My name is Tom Riddle._

* * *

And that concludes chapter thirteen! I'd like to do something a little unorthodox in this note, and promote my other story that I recently started: What Is Left Behind.

What is Left Behind is a post-hogwarts story that looks into the relationships of the main trio, their romances, and their attempts to fit into a world that has not given them time to return to normal life. I'm rather happy with the first chapter, and would greatly appreciate it if you checked it out!

s/11887788/1/What-Is-Left-Behind


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